


The Scholar

by Morena_Evensong



Category: Merlin (TV), Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor, Immortal Merlin, Light Angst, Reincarnation, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morena_Evensong/pseuds/Morena_Evensong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...the briefing room door opened, admitting an old man with pure white hair that fell half-way down his slightly-stooped back and a beard that came down to his waist and clutched a tall wooden walking stick, which was topped with a light purple glass ball... "Daniel, I thought you said he was an expert on Medieval Europe, not an expert from Medieval Europe," Jack muttered."</p><p>Starts somewhere in the beginning of season 7 of SG1.  Not cannon-compliant with second half of Merlin season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Incident 1

**Author's Note:**

> When I originally wrote this bit of insanity, it was partially as a challange to myself to prove that I could write succinctly and still tell a full story. Thus this story begins as a series of amusing, self-contained one-shots. The plot that sneaks in later on was entirely unplanned. ;P I'll be posting this in chunks as I go over it and edit it.
> 
> My thanks go out to theGlaistig for beta reading this for me!
> 
> I own neither "Merlin" nor "Stargate: SG1".

  

A brown paper bag plopped down onto the paperwork in front of Daniel, disrupting his line of sight. He blinked at it, his sleep-deprived brain's first instinct being to wonder why there weren't any hieroglyphs on it. Eventually, his brain cells kicked in and he realized he was supposed to open the bag, not translate it. He looked inside.

His head shot up and he grinned at Sam, who was sitting across from him with her head resting on her hands, watching him. She grinned back.

“Thanks Sam,” he said.

“You're welcome,” Sam answered him. “Cassie helped with those, by the way.”

Daniel nodded as he reached in and grabbed a cookie, devouring it with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn't eaten anything since a three o'clock lunch the day before. Although, to be fair, Daniel was always enthusiastic about chocolate walnut cookies, especially Sam's. Anything else his friend made in the kitchen was eaten at one's own peril, but cookies she was a pro at.

Teal'c and Doctor Fraiser entered the briefing room several minutes later. Daniel offered, but they both refused the cookies – Janet had a bag of her own tucked away inside her desk.

“Goood morning campers!” Jack exclaimed as he entered. Daniel immediately snatched his bag of cookies off the table and hid it underneath. “Hey, hey, what's that you got there, Danny?”

“Nothing, Jack,” Daniel answered, plastering on his most innocent expression. Jack narrowed his eyes at him.

“You're not fooling me, I definitely saw something! And it crinkled.” He walked up behind Daniel and sniffed. “And it smells like chocolate... cookies! You have cookies! Daniel, now you know it's rude not to share with the rest of the class.”

“No I don't. They're mine. All mine. You can't have any.”

“B-but, Daniel, I thought we were friends,” Jack whined.

“Good morning,” a new voice cut off Jack's whine. General Hammond looked over the briefing table before nodding. “Oh good, you're all here.”

 "All except for Doctor Hunithson,” Daniel pointed out as Jack sat down in the seat between him and the general. “He was just double-checking a few things on the translation. He should be right up, sir.”

The general nodded. Jack frowned in confusion.

“Uh, who's Doctor Hunithson?” he asked.

Daniel sighed.   “He's the new expert in medieval European languages. Which you'd know if you'd bothered to read the memo that got sent out two days ago.”

“I read it. I was just, uh, testing you.”

“Uh huh.”

“How is Doctor Hunithson settling in, Doctor Jackson?” General Hammond asked.

“Oh, he's doing fine,” Daniel answered, looking past Jack to the general.  “He definitely has a better grasp of the medieval Germanic and Celtic languages than I do. In fact, he did most of the work on the MALP images from P2G269 for this briefing.”

“Great!” Jack exclaimed. “So, which SG team gets to break him in offworld?”

“None, sir,” said Janet. “He won't be going offworld except in very special circumstances.”

Jack frowned. “And why not? Is there something physically wrong with him?”

“Not as such. In fact, he's in excellent shape for someone of his age.”

“Well then what's the- wait. What do you mean _for someone of his age_?”

“I thought you said you read the memo,” said Daniel. “There was a personal record attached to your copy, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I might've only skimmed it and, you know, it's not like it's obvious or-”

“He's 78 years old, sir,” Janet interrupted him with a pointed look.

Jack blinked. Then he turned to his CO.  “Sir, are you sure hiring some half-senile old grandpa is really such a good idea? I mean, the marines'll eat him alive!”

Janet snorted and exchanged an amused look with Daniel.

Just then the briefing room door opened, admitting an old man with pure white hair that fell half-way down his slightly-stooped back and a beard that came down to his waist. He was clutching a tall wooden walking stick topped with a light purple glass ball. He was also wearing civilian clothes instead of the standard BDUs.

“Daniel, I thought you said he was an expert on Medieval Europe, not an expert _from_ Medieval Europe,” Jack muttered.

Daniel just rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, the old man stood back, holding the door open.

“Well, hurry on then, young man,” he barked with a British accent. “The clock's ticking and some of us have considerably less time left on it than others!”

A young airman hurried into the briefing room, his arms laden down with papers and books. His eyes were wide and his face at least one shade paler than Jack had last seen it standing guard in the gateroom.

“S-sorry, sir,” he stuttered. “Where do you want this?”

“Next to Doctor Jackson, I should think.”

The airman placed his load down. Daniel grabbed one of the books to keep it from toppling down. The airman smiled weakly at him in gratitude, before turning to the old man.

“Was that everything, sir?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, thank you young man. You're a credit to your parents. Willingness to help the elderly is always a good sign. So many young people these days don't understand that.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” Suddenly, he seemed to realize the general was sitting at the table and came to attention. “Sir. If I may, um...”

“Dismissed, airman,” General Hammond waved him off, looking amused.

The airman turned tail and ran out of the room. Jack gaped after him.

“Somehow, I don't think the marines are going to be a problem,” said Daniel smugly.

Jack just nodded. He discovered very quickly over the course of the briefing that, unlike Daniel, Doctor Hunithson didn't suffer dozing officers in silence.


	2. Incident 2

 

Teal'c walked into Daniel Jackson's office. As was usual, the office was silent. The first thing he noticed was the familiar walking stick leaning against the desk. He looked further in and, sure enough, there was Doctor Hunithson hunched over an artifact, squinting at it through a very large magnifying glass as he examined it. Haloed by his long, white beard and hair, he resembled the wizard, Gandalf, from the _Lord of the Rings_ movies SG1 had watched during their last weekend off.

Teal'c looked around and frowned. His teammate was nowhere to be seen.

“Was there something you wanted or do you enjoy looming in doorways for no reason?” an impatient voice snapped.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Doctor Hunithson hadn't even glanced up from what he was doing.   “I was looking for Daniel Jackson,” he replied pleasantly.

“Humph, Doctor Jackson got called to the briefing room. One of the SG teams brought back some sort of glowing artifact. Come to think of it, you might want to go down there.”

Teal'c frowned, wondering why he'd be needed to examine an artifact. If it had been Goa'uld, he would've been called already. However, he had been looking for Daniel Jackson to join him for lunch anyway and it wasn't as though he was otherwise engaged.

“Then I shall take my leave,” he said with a slight bow.

Doctor Hunithson grunted something in reply.

Teal'c was just getting out of the elevator when the alarm sounded. He raced to the armoury and grabbed his staff weapon before heading straight for the briefing room. Not until much later would he realize he hadn't even thought to consider the threat might be coming from somewhere else.

The briefing room was full of armed airmen, their weapons pointing at an octagonal-shaped disk sitting on the table. In the centre of the disk four triangular flaps were open outwards and, above them, a round glass orb hovered just above where they would've connected into a pyramid. The orb was glowing a light blue colour. The same colour that was currently covering Daniel Jackson, General Hammond and two members of SG-5 and keeping them suspended a foot above the ground.

Teal'c met Daniel Jackson's wide, frightened eyes. The archeologist didn't appear to be in any pain, but looked to be completely paralysed within the confines of the blue glow surrounding him. Suddenly, he screwed his eyes shut.

Teal'c pointed his staff weapon at the artifact.

“What has happened here?” he asked Major Stevens, SG-5's second-in-command, who looked shaken.

“Don't know, sir,” the major answered. “We brought the artifact back from P3R261 and then it started glowing, so the general called Doctor Jackson down. He started examining it and then suddenly the flaps opened and these four rays of light or something shot out of the orb and then, well...”

He waved his hand at the room to encompass the entire situation. Teal'c wondered briefly whether he should wait for Colonel O'Neill to arrive, but one look at his friend and the general made his decision clear. Now, it looked like they were in pain, although it was rather difficult to tell when their facial muscles were paralysed.

He aimed his staff weapon at the artifact on the table and shot it. The energy blast from his staff weapon enveloped it and the orb's glow began to fluctuate violently. Teal'c could've sworn for a few moments he saw a more distinct shape trying to emerge from within.

The fluctuations stopped suddenly and the glow surrounding the four suspended humans shot back into the orb. They fell to the ground in a succession of dull thuds followed by a chorus of groans.  It continued glowing for a few moments more and then the four triangular flaps slowly came together, the orb settling down onto their tip. No sooner had it settled, it stopped glowing.

No one moved until Colonel O'Neill ran in, demanding to know what was going on.

Meanwhile, several floors above them, Doctor Hunithson opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and noticed the magnifying glass had fallen out of his hands. He looked around, finding it on the ground below him, the glass inside it shattered by the impact. He let out an annoyed breath.

He held his hand out and his eyes glowed a warm gold colour. Shards of glass reassembled themselves and then the fixed magnifying glass flew into his outstretched hand. Doctor Hunithson turned back to the artifact he'd been studying.

 "Stupid alien entities,” he grumbled. “Thinking they can just come and take over the planet. Hm! As if I'd let them!”

 


	3. Incident 3

“Okay, I don't care what this is,” Jack declared as he entered the lab. “But unless it's a big honking space gun gone incognito, it is most definitely _not_ more important than game night.”

He gave the artifact on the table a pointed look. It was roughly box-shaped – or rather it looked like someone had taken a stone box, heated it to melting point and then twisted and pulled at it until it only vaguely retained memory of its original shape. Then they'd painted celtic knots along what remained of its edges and carved runes onto four of the remaining sides, leaving a flat, unmarked base and a ridged top.

Daniel and Sam looked up at him and rolled their eyes.

“Jack, right now we have no idea what it is,” said Daniel. “Celtic runes are definitely not my strong suit. All I could get was that there's something inside and I think the top's supposed to open somehow, but that's it.”

“It could be a storage container,” Sam offered. “There might be a weapon inside.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at them.

“One big enough to destroy Anubis?” he asked.

“Er, well, size isn't always everything, sir. We're getting faint energy readings from inside. For all we know it could house a bomb or a small energy weapon.”

“I somehow doubt it's anything dangerous,” said Daniel with a frown. “Nothing on this looks like a warning label.” He pointed to a group of runes. “And I'm pretty sure this here means storm, or thunder, or at the very least 'loud noise'.”

“Oooh, you think it might be a weather manipulator?” Sam asked, her eyes shining with delight.

“Or maybe there's a rabbit inside waiting to be pulled out,” Jack cut them off.

Daniel made a face.  “Hopefully, the tablet will tell us more,” he said.

“Tablet?”

“Yeah, SG2 found a tablet with the artifact. We're hoping it'll explain what it is and how to open it.” Daniel pointed to the side with his thumb. “Doctor Hunithson's working on it now.”

Jack looked to the side, where Doctor Hunithson was hunched over the tablet with a large magnifying glass studying a brown tablet that was roughly the same size as a notebook and covered in very small runes.

“Don't suppose anyone's suggested something as innovative as glasses to him?” Jack muttered to Daniel.

Daniel sent him a glare. “Be nice, Jack.”

Jack snorted.

“Doctor Hunithson, how are you getting along there?” Sam called out with a grin.

The old man ignored her.

“Doctor Hunithson?” Daniel called out.

He, too, was ignored, so he stood and walked over to him, placing a hand onto his colleague's shoulder. Doctor Hunithson startled and looked up at Daniel. Daniel smiled.

“Doctor Hunithson, how-”

“Merlin,” Doctor Hunithson interrupted him, before turning back to the tablet. Daniel frowned.

“I'm sorry?”

The old man rolled his eyes.  “My name: Merlin Gaius Hunithson,” he said. “I tend to get distracted in my old age. So, if we are to work together, call me Merlin. I'm more likely to hear you that way if you need my attention.”

“Oh.” Daniel smiled. “Then you'll have to call me Daniel.”

“So, Merlin,” Jack drawled. “Have you got any idea what the squiggles say about this geometrical nightmare of a box?”

Merlin glared at the colonel.

“I never said you could call me Merlin,” he snapped. “I said Daniel could. And possibly Major Carter. I don't care if _you_ need my attention.”

Jack gaped at him while Sam covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Daniel coughed.

“Er, so have you manged to get an idea of what the artifact does yet?” Daniel asked.

“Or what's inside?” Sam added. “We think it could be a storage container, possibly with a weather control device inside.”

“Storage container? Weather control?” Merlin asked, blinking.

“Hey, I thought there was talk of a bomb or chemical weapon!” Jack protested. “Or, you know... a rabbit.”

Merlin snorted. “Young people these days: what strange imaginations you have.”

He slowly stood up and walked over to the artifact. He spent about two minutes simply observing it as he circled it. Then he nodded once to himself and reached out to touch one of the celtic knot designs in the corner and then running his finger along the braid to the other edge.

No sooner had he finished, the top of the box disappeared and a blueish-green smoke came out of it. Merlin ignored the sudden commotion the appearance of the smoke caused and waited for it to settle into a vaguely circular shape. A light shone out from the inside of the box, populating the smoke with purple, glowing runes.

“Oh wow, that's incredible,” Sam gasped, immediately siding up to Merlin to take a look at the display.

Merlin looked at it thoughtfully. Then, with a shrug, he reached out and touched one of the runes. It shimmered and then darkened.

A graceful melody danced through the room. It sounded a bit like a flute, but deeper in pitch, though just as airy and light in tone. Soon, more instruments joined it.

“Okay, so not a big honking space gun,” Jack said. Then he smiled. “But still pretty cool.”

A few minutes later, the PA crackled to life.

“ _Attention all staff, this is General Hammond. As lovely as this music is, I would like it stopped. This is still a military base, people! Hammond out.”_

SG1 blinked and exchanged bewildered looks.

“It's not that loud,” Daniel said unnecessarily.

“How is that even possible?” Sam asked, looking bewildered.

Jack rolled his eyes. “We are never getting to that game,” he grumbled as he went to call the general.


	4. Incident 4

The anthro-archeology lab was mostly silent, everyone hard at work analyzing various artifacts, images and scrolls. Daniel looked over the room with a smile, feeling slight pangs of regret and guilt for not spending more time in here with his fellow scientists.

After a moment, he realized the person he was looking for wasn't among them. Daniel frowned.

“Hi, um, sorry to interrupt,” he called out, smiling apologetically to everyone. “Does anyone know where Doctor Hunithson is?”

“It's Thursday,” Nyan answered him with a shrug. “Doctor Hunithson always leaves early on Thursdays.” His eyes widened. “I mean, he comes in early as well and stays late other days, so it's not like-”

Daniel motioned for him to calm down.

“It's all right, I just wasn't aware of it,” he said.

“If it helps, Daniel,” Lisa Cross pipped up. “I think I remember him saying something about going to the hospital.”

“The hospital?”

Daniel frowned. Janet had said he was in incredibly good health for someone of his age. He supposed he could be visiting someone there...

Daniel shook his head, banishing his speculations. Merlin was in his late seventies. It would hardly be odd for him to need regular tests done for something that had no bearing on his work. The fact that he was healthy enough to work at the SGC in any capacity was frankly nothing short of a miracle. Daniel simply felt a bit guilty for having not noticed it in the month he'd been working with him.

“Was there something urgent you needed help with?” Corporal Mulligan asked.

Daniel looked up at him and blinked.

“Oh, sorry, no, that's okay,” he said quickly. “It's, uh, nothing that can't wait 'till morning.”

He said his good-byes and left; he'd simply ask Merlin in the morning about his Thursday afternoons. Which he would have done, had SG1 not been needed on a rescue mission to retrieve SG7 and the Ancient device they'd discovered.

The mystery was solved several weeks later, when Daniel was in the infirmary recovering from yet another ribbon device – courtesy of Osiris. Merlin had managed to somehow bully his way past the nurses (Janet was in the commissary getting lunch) carrying a large, stone tablet, several books and a file folder.

Daniel couldn't help but snicker at the incredulous looks on the marines' faces as the old man proved he wasn't nearly as frail as he'd let on. It didn't take long for those looks to turn into disgruntled glares.

Before he'd so much as said a word to Daniel, Merlin handed him the tablet and dumped the rest of his load onto the corner of Daniel's bed - just missing his feet.

“Thought you'd want to see this,” the older scholar said. “Also, I imagine you're dying of boredom. Astounding how the mind atrophies when it has nothing to do but count ceiling tiles.”

Daniel grinned, his eyes already glued to the tablet. He didn't care what anyone said, Merlin was a wonderful, wonderful man. While Daniel immersed himself in the tablet, Merlin settled back into one of the hospital chairs and began to leaf through the contents of the folder.

“You know, Doctor Jackson, I'm pretty sure I gave rather explicit orders for you to take it easy and rest,” a stern voice interrupted them both sometime later.

Daniel winced and looked up at Janet. The doctor did not look happy, although at least her glare was aimed at Merlin, who looked back with a raised eyebrow that seemed to challenge her to make an issue of his presence.

Then Daniel noticed the person standing next to Janet and grinned.

“Hi Cassie!” he said, giving her a little wave. She smiled back.

“Heya, Uncle Daniel.”

“Here for your medical exam?”

“Yup.”

She slid around her mom and up to Daniel's bedside.

“How're you doing?”

He shrugged. “Been worse. Just a bad headache, really.”

“Which is why you should be resting and not working!” Janet snapped.

“It won't help his head if his brain starts to dribble out his ears,” Merlin snapped back. “Besides, this is hardly work. The tablet's merely a fairy tale, just written in a different language. Purely recreational.”

Which, Daniel supposed, wasn't entirely a lie. It was just that most of the time the 'fairy tales' they found tended to refer to real things. Though he did read Ancient well enough to potentially read it recreationally. Now there was an idea: what would Ancient mystery novels be like?

“Oh my god!” Cassie's high-pitched squeal made Daniel close his eyes with a wince of pain. “You-you're Dragoon the Great!”

When he opened them again, Cassie looked sheepishly at him.

“Sorry,” she told him.

Daniel smiled and nodded... carefully. He saw the scowl on Merlin's face.

“So, Dragoon the Great?” he asked Cassie.

Cassie instantly brightened.

“You know I volunteer at the children's hospital twice a week, right? Well, for the past month and a half, every Thursday afternoon an old man dressed in brown robes with a staff comes in and wanders around the wards. His name is Dragoon the Great and he's apparently a great sorcerer from a distant land.” She grinned. “The kids love him. Although, they do think he needs a hat.”

Daniel blinked as he absorbed this new information.

Merlin huffed, looking away from them all and turning his attention once again to the folder in his hands.

“I hate hats,” he said.

“So, does this mean we can call you Dragoon the Great?” one of the marines called out. Others laughed. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“The _children_ call me that,” he called back, before pausing, thoughtfully. “I suppose I could let Colonel O'Neill call me that. It's almost the same thing, really.”

Daniel laughed.


	5. Incident 5

Master Bra'tac's first reaction upon seeing Doctor Hunithson stooped over an artifact – this one shaped vaguely like a horse - in the science lab, squinting through his magnifying glass as he occasionally grunted to himself, was to turn to Jack with a disapproving frown.

“I was not aware that the Tauri allowed their elderly to work in such dangerous places,” he said.

“Don't let the white hair fool you,” said Jack. “The guy's a 78-year-old dragon.”

“A dragon with very good ears,” Merlin called out.

Jack's reply was cut short by Teal'c and Daniel's arrival. Sam walked in several minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee. They then launched into a discussion regarding an Ancient artifact they needed to retrieve before Anubis got to it. They knew its location, however the planet was located deep in Bastet's territory and - according to Master Bra'tac's intelligence - surrounded by at least half a dozen ha'tak's at all time.

Twenty minutes into their conversation, Merlin looked up from the artifact he was studying with an annoyed expression on his face.

“I will speak to all my allies in the Free Jaffa, O'Neill,” Master Bra'tac was saying. “However, I do not believe I will be able to muster more than two ha'taks. That will not be enough to keep them from responding to the activation of the chapa'ai.”

“Any chance of sabotage?” Jack asked.

Bra'tac shook his head. “I have only a few loyal to me in Bastet's forces and none of them stationed around that planet.”

“Damn.”

“There's got to be some way we can get their attention elsewhere,” said Daniel as he paced with a deep frown on his face. “Some way to get them to leave the planet's orbit.”

“I could blow up another sun,” Sam offered.

“Thanks Carter, but somehow I don't think that's gonna fly with the general,” said Jack.

“Even were something like that to occur, it is doubtful Bastet's forces would all go to investigate,” Teal'c added. “At most we would be riding ourselves of one ha'tak and thus still remain vastly out-numbered.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at the group.

“You do realize you don't actually have to out-number them,” he said loudly. “You just have to make them _think_ you do.”

“Make them think we outnumber them,” Jack repeated. He turned to Sam. “You know, Carter, I think he might be on to something. How well does cardboard and aluminum foil stand up to deep space conditions?”

Sam only just managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes at her commanding officer.

“Jack, don't be an ass,” said Daniel. “It's not like we don't have any holographic technology.”

“Not on this scale we don't,” Sam pointed out.

“The ha'tak's sensors would be able to detect a hologram,” Teal'c pointed out.

“So we're back to cardboard and aluminum foil.” He turned to Merlin. “Sorry, Dragoon, Carter's good, but even she's not a magician.”

Merlin glared at him.

“Then she's just going to have to become one,” he snapped. “Magicians don't use _real_ magic, it's all slight of hand, making their audience see one thing while they do something else.”

Daniel frowned.  “I don't follow you,” he said.

Merlin sighed in frustration.  “They're in a _space ship_ ,” he said. “It's not like any of them are going to pop out of it to double-check what their little screens are telling them.”

Sam gasped.

“Holy Hannah, that's brilliant!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining as she practically vibrated with sudden excess energy. She turned to the others. “We don't need to have anything physical; we just need to fool their sensors!”

Jack frowned.  “Won't they figure that out?” he asked. “You know, when they, like, shoot at it and nothing happens?”

“Yes, but it'll make them pause and we don't need to actually defeat them, only stall them while someone gets the artifact!” said Daniel with eyes as bright as Sam's.

Jack exchanged grins with Bra'tac. Ten minutes later they were all gone, having either disappeared into their respective labs or to report to the general.

Merlin watched them leave and waited a few minutes more. Then he turned back to the odd, horse-shaped artifact he'd been working on.

“About time they left,” he grumbled, before grabbing his walking stick. As his eyes glowed gold, the stone on top of his staff glowed brightly as well. “ _Ic ia tóspringe.”_

The artifact was enveloped in a golden glow visible only to Merlin. With a quiet hiss, a flap appeared on one of the horses sides, opening outwards until a dial with runes painted around it and several flashing lights became visible.

Merlin stared into the belly of the horse for several moments.

“Drats,” he said. “That really did translate as 'explosion'.”

He then stood quickly and went to find someone to page Major Carter for him to come diffuse the bomb. Not that he couldn't page her himself but, well, he had an image to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ic ia tóspringe – A variation of a basic unlocking spell according to Merlinwiki.


	6. Incident 6

When Sargent Siler walked into the anthro-archeology lab with his toolbox, he was a bit surprised at the old man sitting at the back of the room, watching what looked like MALP images.

It was only mid-afternoon, so that he was working was not really a surprise in and of itself. That he was working inside the lab, however, was. Three days ago, a power surge from an alien device one of the science teams had been working on had reeked havoc with the SGC's environmental systems.

As a result, the anthro-archeology lab was currently sitting at a tropical 39.4º C (102.9º F). Most of the scientists had found somewhere else to work. Or else had taken a few vacation days.

Doctor Hunithson, however, seemed completely oblivious to the heat. In fact, his only concession to it appeared to be two undone buttons on his dark blue linen shirt. A mug of steaming tea sat on the table beside him.

The old man paused the video and looked up at Siler, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Good afternoon, sir,” he said, walking into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, I'm here to fix the heating.”

Hunithson nodded.

“Hmph, about time someone came to take care of that,” he muttered. Then he snorted. “Amazing how a highly-classified organization that deals daily with threats from other worlds, can nearly grind to a halt due to such a ridiculously mundane thing as faulty heating.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “It's a good thing you're made of slightly sterner stuff, young man, or we'd really be in trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” said Siler, deciding not voice his own speculations about the stuff Hunithson himself was apparently made of.

Siler shook his head and made his way to the corner where the access panel was located. Doctor Hunithson went back to studying the MALP images.

It was well over an hour later when Siler heard Hunithson leave. He returned in a series of shuffles and grunts just as Siler finished repairs on the wiring.

“I've brought you some orange juice, young man,” the scholar called out. “Wouldn't want you passing out due to dehydration. It's on the table.”

Siler pulled out of the duct and blinked at the old man.

“Thank you, sir,” he said to the old man - who apparently hailed from Krypton, because _the man wasn't even sweating_!

Merlin grunted in acknowledgement as he sat down to review his notes. He'd just opened a blank document, when he heard a surprised cry, which turned into a yowl and then ended with a soft 'thump' and shattering glass.

With a frown he turned around in his seat to where the sargent had been working He didn't see him. What he did see, however, was the glass of orange juice he'd brought him sitting untouched on the table. His eyes darted to the shelf next to the technician's ladder. It was empty.

Merlin groaned as he stood, knowing exactly what had happened.

“I said the table, not the shelf,” he grumbled.

Sure enough, when he came around the table, there was a rather bewildered-looking ginger cat standing next to shards of a broken glass. It looked up at Merlin and meowed pitifully. Merlin sighed and scooped it up.

“I thought the first thing they taught you in soldier school was how to follow instructions,” he groused. The cat meowed again, before freezing as Merlin's eyes flashed gold.

The glass shards on the floor reassembled themselves into a glass, which then floated to the table to join the one filled with actual orange juice. A flick of his wrist and the door to the laboratory closed shut. He placed the cat gently down onto the table.

“Stay put,” he told it.

The cat meowed again, before obediently curling up into a ball. Merlin retrieved his satchel from underneath his desk and turned on the kettle.  He took an old, wooden bowl out of the satchel and began laying out various herbs and some small bottles of liquids. When he looked up, he noticed the cat was no longer curled up in such a tight ball and was watching him with dull, tired eyes and heavy breaths.

“Poor thing,” he said. “This heat plus a fur coat; that must be horrible.”

Merlin ran a hand down its back and whispered the same cooling spell he was using on himself. The cat closed its eyes and began to purr.

Merlin chuckled, before resuming his work. He was a little annoyed at having to start the burn potion again from scratch, but he supposed he really should've known better than to just leave it lying around uncovered like that even if the steady heat would've been perfect for letting it mature for the final stage. It was one he'd developed himself and for some unknown reason ingesting it before it matured enough for the final stage, resulted in instant cat.

He had an impatient Arthur to thank for that discovery and a drunk Gwaine to thank for confirming it hadn't been a fluke. The unfortunate sargent had both those accident-prone idiots to thank for Merlin's intimate knowledge of the antidote.

An hour later, an embarrassed Sargent Siler left the lab wondering three things: why he felt refreshed despite having apparently collapsed from heat exhaustion, why the collapse featured hallucinations of being a cat and why in the world did he keep seeing Doctor Hunithson with golden eyes?


	7. Incident 7

Merlin frowned as he watched Jack O'Neill sneak out of the anthro-archaeology lab, trying very hard not to look like he was sneaking. He looked rather pleased with himself, which Merlin didn't like at all. Once the colonel was gone, Merlin braced himself and cautiously walked into the lab.

At first he saw nothing amiss. He made it all the way to his desk before he saw IT.

IT was a large, grey pointed hat with a wide floppy brim that looked like it had seen better days before being attacked by a family of moths. Down the pointed top, sloppy white stitches spelled out the word: WIZZARD.

For a few moments Merlin could do nothing but blink at it. It was hardly the most hideous hat he'd ever seen – in fact it barely compared to some of the monstrosities Arthur had subjected him to back in the days he was still able to – but it was the principle of the matter. Merlin simply didn't _do_ hats.

He smirked. Colonel O'Neill had no idea who he'd just challenged.

 

* * *

 

A week, and one ruin-cataloguing, milk-run-mission that actually managed to remain a milk-run mission later, Jack had almost forgotten about the hat he'd randomly found at a yard sale and then fixed up. Hunithson had barely reacted to it anyway, which had been a bit of a disappointment.

“So, Daniel, T, what do you guys say to beer and pizza tonight?” Jack asked while they undressed in the locker room.

“I would be amendable to that suggestion,” said Teal'c with a slight smile. “One of the new members of SG-15 has loaned me the DVDs to a program he claims is better than _Star Wars_. It is called _Doctor Who_.”

The sneer in his voice told his friends exactly what the jaffa thought of that. Daniel snickered.

“I've heard of it, but never seen any of it, so I can't compare,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Give me a few hours, to wrap things up and I'll join you.”

“Does anyone here ever bother to remember I hate science fiction?” Jack sighed. “And Daniel, you have exactly two hours after the briefing's done to put whatever in order and then I'm dragging you- whoa!”

Jack had just opened his locker to get his shower stuff, when something tall and black fell out of it. He caught it easily enough as it wasn't heavy. It took him a few moments to figure out what it was: a hat. A tall, black cone-shaped hat with big block letter going down one side that read DUNCE.

Beside him, Daniel chuckled.

“Secret admirer, Jack?” he teased.

“Nope,” Jack said with a delighted grin. “I think this might be payback.”

He was less delighted when General Hammond asked Major Carter to remove the pink sparkly “Kick Me” sign from the back of his uniform jacket.

A week later, he was trying to concentrate on finishing his paperwork, when Daniel burst into his office, eyes bright with the sort of excitement Jack had learnt to dread. Because, when Daniel got this sort of excited, the archaeologist liked to share. Which wouldn't be nearly as much of a problem if he didn't also expect Jack to pay attention while he shared.

Which, of course, Jack never did. Instead, he let Daniel ramble on while his eyes wandered around his office, cataloguing all the familiar objects in the room.

Until, suddenly, he realized they weren't all so familiar, after all. He stared at the wall with a frown.

“Jack!”

“Wha-what?!”

“What's wrong?” Daniel asked. “You look confused. And probably not about the Aztec symbols I've been talking about for the past ten minutes.”

Jack blinked. Had it really been that long?

“Oh, nothing important,” he said absently. “I was just trying to figure out why I suddenly had two diplomas on my wall.”

Surprised, Daniel looked over to the framed diplomas hanging on his wall. Then he walked over to them. He skimmed over the first one, but his eyes widened as he began to read the second one. As soon as Jack saw a grin beginning to emerge, he was out of his chair and walking over to inspect it himself.

Daniel roared with laughter and ran to the phone. Jack could hear him talking to Carter, telling her to get up here now, as he looked over the diploma.

It was expertly made, unrecognizable from a real, official document. Even had an embossed seal, gold lettering and everything as it proudly announced Jack O'Neill's official status as a member of the Village Idiot's Guild.

Daniel and Carter refused to let him take it down.

The next hat Merlin found left on his desk was covered in purple sequence and pink pom poms.


	8. Incident 8

 

**The Scholar**

  **Chapter 8**

 

 “You know, I think I'm a bit disappointed,” Jack told Daniel as he pulled up to a small white house. It had two wooden steps and several bushes growing to either side of them.

 Daniel looked up blearily from his coffee.

 “What do you mean?” he asked.

 “I was expecting something a bit, I don't know, less _normal_.”

 Daniel rolled his eyes. “Like what: a gingerbread house?”

“Of course not. Only witches live in those. Besides, Dragoon eats marines for breakfast, not children.”

Daniel didn't bother answering as he got out of Jack's truck. Sunday morning wake-up calls were bad enough without Jack's usual ridiculousness. He just hoped Merlin was actually home. He hadn't answered his phone and so Jack had volunteered (with no ulterior motives whatsoever, Daniel was sure) to drop by and pick the man up.

They rang the doorbell and waited. Something inside crashed to the ground and the door muffled a voice calling out something that seemed to end in 'right there'. Jack and Daniel exchanged concerned looks. Jack stepped up to the door.

 “Doctor Hunithson, are you alright?!” he called.

 He stepped back as the doorknob jingled and they could hear a bolt being undone. The door was then thrown open by a young man with short, dark hair and large ears.

 “Hello, sorry about that,” he said with a wide smile. “Was just getting some cleaning done. Can I help you?”

 “Er, we're looking for Doctor Hunithson,” said Daniel carefully, clearly worried they'd got the address wrong.

The boy blinked.

 “Oh, right, of course you are. Uh, I'm afraid my uncle's not here right now.”

 “Uncle?” Jack's eyes narrowed. “I thought Hunithson didn't have any family.”

 The young man's eyes narrowed as he glared back at Jack.  “Just because we're not related by blood doesn't make us any less family,” he spat. “Uncle Merlin was a close friend of my mum's before she passed away.”

 “I'm sorry, Jack didn't mean it like that,” Daniel quickly interjected. “It's just that he hasn't mentioned you before.”

 “'S not like he talks about himself much, is it?”

“No, you're right, he doesn't.”

“Whatever,” Jack interrupted them. “Look, kid, something's come up at the base where your uncle works and he's not answering his phone.”

 The boy blinked, before looking behind him. He walked back into the house. Jack quickly peeked in, only able to see far enough to spy a bucket full of soapy water and a mop sprawled across the floor. The young man walked out of an adjacent room holding a cellphone.

“Er, I guess I – uh, my uncle forgot to charge it, “ he said, holding the blank-faced phone up.

“Great! What's an old man like that doing with a cellphone anyway?” Jack groused.

His nephew looked sheepish for a moment. Daniel sighed.

“Do you happen to know where we could find him?” he asked.

“Umm...” The young man thought about it for a moment. “He likes to go to the park to feed the ducks on Sunday mornings.”

“He feeds ducks?” Jack gaped, before shaking his head. “You know what, nevermind. Which park?”

 Directions in hand, Jack and Daniel then left – Jack rather annoyed the eccentric old man just _had_ to prefer the park furthest away from them, because the 'ducks were nicer there'. Or so his nephew claimed.

 Merlin closed the door after them and breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. He'd almost forgotten he wasn't an old man for a moment. Damn. Now he had to come up with a history for his 'nephew'.

 But first he had to get himself to the park he'd sent the two men to.

Waving a hand absently to the mop and bucket, he bolted up the stairs as they picked themselves up and continued washing the hall floor. Once in his bedroom, he quickly changed out of his jeans and t-shirt and into the cotton slacks and button-down shirt Doctor Hunithson wore. Then he stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath.

 " _Miht dagan, beϸecce me. Adeadaϸϸisne gast min freondum ond min feondum.”_

 His eyes glowed gold as he changed and as he watched, his features changed and he felt himself grow older, until he was, once again, Doctor Hunithson. Merlin grimaced at the familiar aches and pains. His trip down the stairs took much longer than his dash up them had earlier. In the kitchen, he grabbed half a loaf of bread.

As he crossed to the living room to get his wallet and keys, he noticed the mop and bucket were done their job, so he waved them back into the closet. Making sure the livingroom blinds were drawn, he preformed the transportation spell.

 

* * *

 

 

It actually didn't take Jack and Daniel very long to find Merlin once they arrived at the park. He was doing exactly what his nephew said he'd be doing: feeding ducks... along with about half the birds in the park. There were even a few, smaller birds nestled on his shoulders, taking tiny pieces of bread directly from his fingers.

 “Wow, I guess the ducks really are friendly in this park,” said Daniel as Jack gaped.

“Hey, they never do that when I come to feed them!” Jack protested.

“That's because animals are excellent judges of character,” Merlin called out as he tossed another chunk of bread to one of the ducks waiting patiently in the semi-circle in front of him.

The ducks quacked in agreement.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Miht dagan, beϸecce me...” - According to Merlinwikia, this is the exact spell used by Merlin in the season 3 episode “Queen of Hearts” to turn himself into an old man.


	9. Incident 9

 

'Expect the unexpected' was pretty much the daily motto at the SGC and yet Daniel still wasn't prepared for the moment Merlin cornered him in his office with a determined look on his face and asked: “Are you and Jack O'Neill sleeping together?”

Daniel froze, his coffee cup suspended on its way to his lips. He stared at Merlin, who was looking at him impatiently.

“Huh?” was the first intelligent answer he could come up with. “What? No, no, of course we're not! Why would you- wait, there's rules against this-”

“Yes, yes, I know all about those silly rules,” Merlin waved him off. “We're civilians, though, so they don't apply to us.” Then his eyes narrowed and Daniel gulped. “So are you sleeping with Samantha then?”

“Wha- why...no! And how is that-”

“Hm... Teal'c then?” As Daniel floundered for words, Merlin looked at him shrewdly and shook his head. “No, I didn't think so. I suppose Doctor Fraiser would be a better guess, but I know that's a 'no'.”

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, willing his brain away from a complete meltdown.

“No, I'm not. Why in the world do you think it's any of your business anyway?”

“Oh, it's not and I don't especially care either way,” Merlin answered. Daniel glared at him until he elaborated. “I came across the base's betting pool yesterday. And, as it is important to immerse oneself into native culture, I decided to participate. This is research.”

Daniel gaped at him. Betting pool? His love life was the subject of the betting pool?! And, for that matter, why hadn't _he_ heard about this betting pool?

“Isn't that cheating?” he asked, because that was the safest thing to ask.

 “Not at all, dear boy. It's called 'making an informed decision'.”

With a final shrug, Merlin turned to make his way dejectedly out of Daniel's office. He was almost at the door when he paused and turned to Daniel with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Daniel instinctively shuddered and took a sip of his coffee to steel himself against whatever had created it.

“Although, if none of the options are true, then I suppose there's no harm in adding a new one. I'd be curious to see just how many people think me still spry enough to catch a young thing like you.”

Daniel chocked on his coffee. By the time he was done coughing, the old man was gone. Daniel stared at the open door in horror. Not daring to turn his eyes away, he fumbled for his phone, glancing down only to make sure he was dialing the correct extension.

“Jack?” he said as soon as the phone was picked up.

“ _Daniel?”_

“Do you still have that bottle of whiskey I brought over for a team night ages and ages ago?”

“ _Uh, probably...”_

“Oh good. I'll grab another and meet you at your place at six.”

There was a pause.

“ _Daniel... is everything alright?”_

“No. There isn't enough alcohol in the world strong enough to purge my mind of the conversation I just had.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

Daniel – thank all real and false gods – didn't hear anything more on the topic of the betting pool for several weeks. Sharing the trauma with Jack had helped him feel a little better. Their heads certainly felt like they were trying to purge themselves of _something_ the next morning.

SG1 was in the middle of gearing up for their newest mission, when Merlin scuttled into the locker room, wooden staff tapping furiously against concrete floor.

“Oh, good, you haven't left yet!” he exclaimed and bee-lined to Daniel.

Daniel finished tying his shoelaces and looked up. He frowned. Merlin looked a little too excited for his peace of mind.

“We're leaving in ten – oh, no, sorry - nine minutes,” said Jack as he checked his watch.

Merlin ignored him. Instead, he dug into his pocket and pulled out some sort of silver medallion on a leather string. He thrust it at Daniel.

“Here,” he said. “It's a good luck charm. Take it with you.”

Daniel took it and examined it. The medallion was a bit of a lopsided circle with a symbol Daniel didn't quite recognize carved into it and then painted over in bright red.

“Not that I don't appreciate it,” Daniel said cautiously. “But why the sudden need for a good luck charm?”

“Oh, because I put a rather substantial wager on you coming back completely unharmed. Got very good odds as well.”

Jack roared with laughter. Daniel felt his face heating.

“Er, well, thank you, I guess.”

Merlin grinned at him. “Now you just make sure you wear it, young man.”

Daniel slipped the medallion over his head. The old man nodded once and then scuttled back out to whatever he'd been doing before. Jack walked over to Daniel and clasped his shoulder.

“Well, let's go test this good luck charm, shall we?”

Daniel sighed and followed his commander to the Stargate.

 

* * *

 

The natives on P2B2X9 took one look at the medallion around his neck and fell to their knees in prostration. Daniel gaped at them, before groaning.

“I am never accepting a good luck charm for a mission ever again,” he said as Sam tried to hide her smile.

“Just make sure you make it absolutely clear to them you aren't looking for a wife,” Jack deadpanned.

Sam lost her battle against the giggles.

 


	10. Incident 10

“And they'll make a full recovery then?” General Hammond asked. 

“Yes, they should,” Doctor Fraiser answered. “Doctor Jackson obviously sustained the worst of the injuries, but the bullet went straight through his leg and there doesn't seem to be any nerve damage, just some rather nasty electrical burns.”

“Good, I'm glad.”

General Hammond let out the breath he was holding. For the million and a halfth time, he wondered whether Doctor Jackson was blessed or cursed. Only he would manage to run into militants during a low-key archaeological expedition in South America and only he would somehow manage to get out of it alive as well.

“Yes, sir, you're certainly not the only one.”

The general nodded. He knew very well the chief medical officer was rather fond of her patient. Everyone was. 

Their discussion (spoken and unspoken) was interrupted by a knock.

“Enter!” Hammond called out.

The door opened and Sargeant Harriman slid into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir, ma'am,” he said as he smartly came to attention.

“At ease, airman,” Hammond answered as he eyed the papers the man was holding. “What is it you've got there?”

“Just came in from the Pentagon, sir,” Harriman promptly answered even as he moved to the general's desk to hand him the papers.

“Thank you, son.”

“You're welcome, sir.” He paused, uncertainly for a moment. “Uh, sir?”

The general looked up from skimming the papers he was now holding and looked at the sargeant expectantly.

“Just thought you might want to know there's a new rumour floating around the base. Uh, about Doctor Hunithson.”

“Oh?” 

Hammond placed the papers down and clasped his hands together on top of them. He knew that, despite his best efforts, he likely didn't look nearly as nonchalant as he was hoping he did. But he could hardly help it. Doctor Hunithson attracted bizarre, unbelievable rumours more than any single person he'd ever encountered – even worse than all of SG1 combined and that took talent. As much he considered it his duty to keep abreast of what was going on and being whispered about around the base, when it came to Doctor Hunithson, it was mostly a hobby.

It was lucky he had such helpful staff, who were more than willing to keep him informed of said rumours.

“Apparently, Doctor Hunithson might not be entirely human.”

The general chuckled and exchanged an amused expression with Doctor Fraiser.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. And his eyebrows are an alien parasite. Apparently, there are several members of the biology team attempting to steal a few of the lashes in order to study them.”

How in the world Sargeant Harriman managed to deliver his report with a straight face was a mystery to the general. It was only after Doctor Fraiser's laughter filled the room that he so much as cracked a smile. Hammond chuckled warmly and shook his head.

“I'll take that as a sign that the biology department could use some new plants to study,” he said.

“Well, sargeant, I can certainly set your mind at ease,” the doctor said once she'd caught her breath. “Doctor Hunithson is absolutely, one hundred percent human. The eyebrows, however, I'm not so sure about.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she turned to her commanding officer.

“So, you're keeping track of the rumour mill, sir?” she asked.

Hammond shrugged.

“It never hurts to know what your subordinates are talking about.”

“No, sir. Particularly when they're so inventive about it. Did you know the marines are convinced that walking stick of his is actually some sort of laser weapon?”

He grinned. “Yes, I've heard that one. Although, my personal favourite is the one where he really is Merlin of Camelot and he's here simply for something interesting to do while waiting for King Arthur to be reborn.”

“So you're saying if we see him walking about with a broadsword we'll know the end of the world is upon us?”

The general laughed.

“Something like that. Have you heard the rumour that he and Doctor Jackson are lovers?”

Doctor Fraiser blinked. “No, sir. I don't think I have. That's just...” 

She looked like she wasn't sure whether to laugh about it or be outraged on behalf of her friend for being subjected to such a rumour.

Sargeant Harriman cleared his throat.

“Actually, sir, ma'am, rumour has it he started that one himself. As a joke, just to see how many people would believe it.”

General Hammond shook his head. 

“That man is incredibly odd.”

“No kidding, sir,” Doctor Fraiser agreed. “I still can't believe Colonel O'Neill decided it'd be a good idea to challenge him to a prank war.”

“Yes, I do believe Jack might be in a bit over his head there.”

“Hmm, the green hair two weeks ago definitely proved that.”

“Green hair?!”

“It was on your day off, sir.”

“Damn. I'm sorry I missed that. I'll have to get security to look up some images.”

Suddenly the familiar sound of klaxons filled the air. The three of them were out the door only seconds later.


	11. Incident 11

 

Merlin set the smooth, rowan-wood bowl of incense onto his coffee table. Not that he really needed it for the spell, but the aroma was rather soothing and if anyone happened to look in, it would add to the impression that he was deep in meditation. The curtains might be drawn, but one could never be too careful – Merlin had learned that the hard way over the centuries.

Finally he sat down on the couch, wincing as his knees popped uncomfortably. He really wished he didn't have to do this as an old man, but if someone interrupted him, he didn't want to have to explain just why his 'uncle' wasn't home. Again.

Merlin leaned back, made himself comfortable, and closed his eyes. _“Asete min ferhþ,”_ he whispered, feeling the magic in his veins wrap around him even as his lips formed the words.

It was a shortened version of the actual spell, one only Merlin was likely capable of using. He felt the familiar sensation of part of him lifting out of his body and away from the bindings of mortality. He didn't revel in the feeling, busy concentrating on his destination. With a thought, he commanded the mists around the edges of Avalon to part and they obeyed. A pang of sadness shot through him when he thought of how easy would be to commanded them to open fully and let him through into Avalon itself.

Unfortunately, he, of all people, knew just how impossible and selfish that wish was. He was still needed in this world.

Finally, his magic encountered a familiar warmth and he slid away from the mists of Avalon and into the mortal world. He opened his eyes and looked around at the cave he found himself in.

“Ah, there you are, young warlock,” a voice rumbled from further in.

Merlin rolled his eyes and moved forward. “You know, at some point it really does become rather ridiculous for you to still call 'young' anything,” he said.

Killgarrah the dragon grinned a smile full of teeth. “To me you will always be young.”

“That's because you're bloody ancient!”

“One would think you'd have gotten used to it a very long time ago, Merlin,” another voice said. Merlin turned to acknowledge Anhora, Keeper of the Unicorns. “You are the youngest of us.”

“I am not!” Merlin threw his arms up in protest. “Freya's the same age as me!”

The Lady of the Lake giggled. The other two chuckled, indulgent looks upon their faces. Merlin scowled at his so-called 'old friends'.

“You know, I don't know why I ever bother coming to these things,” he grumbled. “All you lot ever do it make fun of me.”

“You come for the same reason the rest of us do,” Killgarrah said dismissively. “To speak with the last of your kin.”

“And to share with us what goes on in the outside world,” Freya added with a smile that made all Merlin's ill humour disappear instantly.

He sighed. “Yes, alright,” he said. “I suppose not having to pretend that magic isn't real and that I'm not as old as I am is a relief.”

“And great changes are coming to the world,” someone added softly. Merlin's head shot up at the unexpected voice and met knowing eyes. “Aren't they, Emrys?”

"Diamair,” he breathed.

He looked around, to the others gathered around them, who were now looking at them curiously.

“I thought I felt the fates spinning once again,” Killgarrah finally said carefully. “Nothing is certain, but I think perhaps the time of Arthur's rebirth may be coming upon us.”

Merlin let out a sharp breath, before letting his eyes slide briefly shut. He met the dragon's speculative look.

“And you, Merlin, do not seem nearly as surprised as I would've thought you'd be,” he continued.

Merlin winced.

“Er, well, you know how I'm living in America now, right?”

“That's the colony on the other side of the sea?”Anhora asked.

“Yes, only it hasn't been a colony for a while now.”

“Of course, I remember that.”

“They threw tea into the ocean, didn't they?” Freya asked, looking as perplexed as she had the first time Merlin had told her.

Apparently, throwing swords into lakes was perfectly understandable, but throwing tea into oceans made absolutely no sense. And Jack thought _he_ was strange...

“Yes, but that was over two hundred years ago. Anyway, I'm working on this military project and, well, it's a secret now, but one day, it won't be.” Merlin paused. “And it's incredible and absolutely terrifying and, well, it's probably going to change the world.”

The Diamaire nodded, looking as grim as the rest of them.

“True change is like that,” she said. “Great empires fall and out of their ashes new ones emerge.”

Merlin nodded. Then he frowned, looking at the being in front of him as though he was seeing her for the first time.

“Diamaire,” he said carefully. “Are you by any chance a Furling?”

The Diamaire blinked slowly. “Yes, my people were once called that,” she said. Then she grinned. “So, the humans have uncovered the Alteran's Gate.”

“Stargate,” Merlin corrected and then shrugged. “At least that's what Doctor Jackson translated it as from Goau'ld.”

Suddenly, there was a huge, grinning dragon head taking up his entire vision.

“Stargate, Merlin?” Killgarrah said. “Do go on.”

Did you not just hear the 'secret' part-” Merlin stopped and sighed. “What am I saying? If anyone were to meet you they'd hardly be able to get past the 'dragon' part, nevermind interrogating you to see if you happened to know any classified information.”

And so, Merlin settled down to tell his friends about his latest adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asete min ferhþ - I apologize for my crappy Old English. This should translate as 'transport my spirit'.


	12. Incident 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains heavy spoilers for Stargate:SG1 season 7 episode "Heros". Consider this your tissue warning.

 

Janet Fraiser's heart broke as she looked at her friends. Seeing their grief overpowered any traces of anger at having her life cut short. It wasn't as though the universe owed her anything; she had no regrets. Thanks to her, one more child would grow up knowing their father. She couldn't have wished for a better death – except, perhaps, for one, where she was happily surrounded by grandchildren.

She frowned. No, she really didn't have any regrets: so what was she still doing here?

Eventually, her nurses – no, not her nurses anymore – managed to herd everyone out of the infirmary in order to see to the physically wounded. Janet took one, last look around the infirmary.

“Well, it's been fun,” she said. “But I guess it's good-bye now.”

No one answered her, but that was okay. She hadn't expected them to anyway.

Then, she went to see each of her closest friends.

“It's been an honour, sir,” she told General Hammond.

“Stop being such an ass,” she told Jack O'Neill and then, with a fond smile, added: “But never change.”

“Take care of Cassie for me, Sam. And don't forget to find happiness.”

“Good luck, Teal'c. I hope you manage to free your people.”

And then she arrived at Daniel's office. He was sitting at his desk, staring blankly at the video camera in his hands.

“I'm sorry, Daniel,” she finally said. “I'm sorry for adding to the list of people you've lost.” She kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. And that means occasionally eating something that isn't chocolate or coffee. Or so help me, Daniel Jackson, I _will_ find a way to come back from the dead and kick your ass!”

Janet took a step back. She'd now said her good-byes to everyone, but one. She closed her eyes and thought of Cassie, mentally sending her a farewell filled with as much love as she could, hoping it would reach her.

She opened her eyes and gasped. She was in Cassie's room! Janet spied her daughter laying on her bed, chemistry textbooks scattered around her, napping. She smiled and went over to perch on the edge of the bed.

For a long while, Janet did nothing but gaze at the beautiful, wonderful woman her daughter had become. Then she ran her hand through her hair, brushing the long strands away from her face, before leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Cassie stirred.

“Mom?” she asked sleepily.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Cassie groaned and blinked the sleep away from her eyes. She looked around the room in confusion. She didn't see Janet.

“Cassie?!”

Janet saw her daughter's eyes light up at Jack's voice and her heart broke again.

“Good-bye, Cassandra,” she said, feeling something pulling at her, urging her elsewhere.

She closed her eyes and followed the pull. When she opened them again, she found herself looking at a familiar patch of greenery at the top of Cheyenne Mountain. Confused, she looked around. Doctor Hunithson was leaning idly against a large tree opposite her.

Janet gasped. He was _looking right at her._

“I have spent many years wandering this planet, waiting for my king to be reborn,” he began quietly. “And with every year that passed, every empire that rose and fell, it became clearer and clearer to me that the world Arthur would be born into, would be very different from the one he left. That his leadership would not be needed only for Albion. It was not until now that this suspicion of mine has been confirmed: that Camelot was but a test, an opportunity for his legend to be born so that it may gain strength over the years for when he was truly needed.”

He stepped away from the shade of the tree and Janet frowned. Within the image of the old, long-bearded man, she could see the image of a much younger man with short dark hair and ears that stuck out from his head.

“After all,” he continued, his face lighting up in a proud smile. “It's all well and good for the druids to pass on legends and prophecies of the shadowy Emrys, but altogether something else for men to tell tales and make movies of the the glorious High King, Arthur Pendragon.”

Somehow, Janet felt like she really should be more surprised than she felt. Maybe it was a part of being dead.

“So you really are Merlin, _the_ Merlin,” she said.

He laughed. “Yup. No owl though, sorry.” His eyes sparkled. “Although I do have a dragon.”

Janet laughed back. “Why doesn't that surprise me?”

He shrugged and then his face became serious.

“When Arthur is reborn into this world he will need friends and allies to help him. Occasionally, I have met people, who could become one of those allies. And you, Janet Fraiser, are likely the last of them.”

His eyes glowed a warm gold and, from just beyond the trees, a thick mist appeared.

“This is your choice,” he said. “Through this mist lies Avalon, where Arthur and his court await rebirth. If you turn and walk away, you will find yourself in the heaven you have been taught to expect.”

Janet stared at him, at his neutral expression. “Why did you come here?” she asked.

His lips quirked in amusement. “Because I felt a catalyst of change and knew it was one I needed to witness with my own eyes.”

Of course: they all knew the Stargate would change the world. And, somewhere, in the darkest corner of their minds, they were afraid of what that change would entail. What chaos it would bring with it.

And, just like that, she knew she'd made her choice a long time ago.

Not looking back, Janet Fraiser walked into the mists of Avalon.


	13. Incident 13

 

Elizabeth Weir felt as though somewhere, in all those piles upon piles of classified documents there really should have been a nice, bold-lettered note warning her about Doctor Hunithson. She'd been warned about SG1, after all.

And why was there a man older then her father working at a top-secret military facility, anyway?

Her first experience (as one did not simply 'meet' Merlin Hunithson so much as 'experience' him) was when she'd gone up to the anthro-archaeology lab to introduce herself and meet the staff.

“That's a lovely hat,” she'd said to him, indicating the green wizard's hat sitting on the corner of his desk.

Lovely was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, as the creation looked like a gradeschool art project – done by a child with no actual artistic talent to speak of. It had a bright green felt rim full of glued-on sparkles and sequence and the body was some sort of conglomeration of paper mache coloured an unattractive shade of puke green with green felt stars glued on from the same coloured felt as the rim. It was finished off with a large, black grisly spider dangling off the tip with black string.

Doctor Hunithson raised an eyebrow at her.

“If you like it, young lady, you can have it,” he said. “This is Colonel O'Neill's way of wasting time before his brain goes entirely to mush. I was just going to take it to the top of the mountain.”

Elizabeth blinked.

“Why to the top of the mountain?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Because if I burn it down here, it sets off all sorts of fire alarms and then people show up with those fan-dangled fire extinguishers and water hoses and guns – though why anyone would think a gun would be useful in stopping a fire is beyond me. The general got very annoyed at me the last time it happened, though, personally, I think it's good practice for all those young soldiers. They don't get nearly enough healthy running around. It's always 'emergency this' and 'emergency that' or 'alien invasion' or 'alien plague' or, at the very least, 'SG1's in trouble again', in which case they can't get to the betting pool fast enough. Honestly, it makes me wonder what the world is coming to!”

“Er, indeed.” Elizabeth said. She looked around the lab. The scientists were all very studiously looking anywhere but her. “While I haven't been here nearly long enough to judge the performance of the base's staff, I'm sure your colleagues would be very thankful if you didn't burn it inside. Paper mache doesn't exactly smell very appealing when it burns.”

“Hmm?” He seemed to think upon that for a moment. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense. This place is drab and boring enough as it is, no need to make it smell bad as well.”

When she later asked Daniel Jackson about the man, he simply laughed.

“Oh, don't worry about him,” he said. “Merlin's mostly harmless. Just ignore most of the rumours about him and don't treat him like he's as old as he looks and you'll do fine.”

Then Daniel Jackson got spirited away along with the rest of SG1 by the Asgard and Elizabeth Weir got left behind to deal with her Goa'uld guests and negotiate on behalf of Earth. And decide what to do with Camulus.

Which was when it was brought to her attention that Camulus was a Gaulish god and Doctor Hunithson was the SGC's expert in medieval Europe. Pitting the arrogant alien against the strong-willed old man seemed like the first bit of fun she'd have since taking on this assignment.

Unfortunately, she got called away by a call from the President just after introducing the two.

Merlin sat down with an annoyed huff. The chair inside the interrogation room was hard and uncomfortable and he had an Ancient tablet he could be working on translating. Not to mention the artifacts SG-9 had brought back, which held very definite traces of Druidic runes and much more subtle traces of magic.

Merlin looked across the table at the arrogant godling and examined him. Camulus looked back at him with a sneer. Merlin snorted, amused by the attempt to intimidate him.

This enraged the Goa'uld.

“You look down on me, Tauri?” he said with a dark, dangerous voice. “I may be flesh and blood, but I have been worshipped by many. I am a god and you will-”

“I will do nothing,” Merlin cut him off, waving away the man's anger. He then met the godlings eyes with a hard look of his own, letting him see his utter lack of fear.

“Do not mistake me, Camulus. I am not as naive as most to think of a god as only one type of being. Gods can be many things, take many forms, some of them flesh and blood. Whether or not you were once a god of this world, doesn't matter to me for you are not a god of this world anymore.”

The Goa'uld's eyes widened as warm gold flashed behind the old man's eyes. And suddenly, a voice sounded in his head.

_The old gods have not left this world. Though few worship them anymore, they are still here. **You** are not one of them, because you did not recognize **me**._

* * *

 

To say Elizabeth was surprised by the subdued Camulus that greeted her upon her return, would be an understatement. Hunithson gave nothing away as she attempted to find out what they'd spoken of. Not even the guards seemed entirely sure what had happened.

However, as a diplomat, she knew that while looking gift horses in the mouth was usually prudent, forcing them to the dentist generally ended badly.

 


	14. Incident 14

 

It was Tuesday and SG-9 was returning to P9H678, where they'd found two artifacts with Druidic runes. Merlin was fairly certain both artifacts (which looked a bit like chunks of smoothed-down, engraved stone), were parts of an altar of some sort. As Druids only rarely actually built things like altars, this had made Merlin very curious indeed.

That, and the faint traces of magic he could feel coming from the stone.

“I still don't get what you think you'll find on this planet, Doc,” Colonel Goodman said as Merlin joined the team waiting in front of the gate. “Those were the only stones with anything interesting on them and no signs of human life otherwise.”

Merlin snorted.

“I read your report, colonel,” he said. “You studied the area around the field. Druids live in _forests_. Of course you didn't come across any. Though, I dare say they likely knew you were there.”

Daniel had come to see him off on his first trip through the gate. Merlin waved to him with a grin, before stomping up the ramp, his walking stick making a rather satisfying 'klunk' against the metal. The journey itself felt a bit like one of his transportation spells, except for not having any control over the direction he was going in – like one of those rollercoaster contraptions Merlin never understood the point of.

He walked out on the other side of the gate and took a deep breath, letting his magic expand out into his new surroundings. As he'd hoped, there was definitely magic in the soil.

He observed the two stone pillars standing on either side of the gate. There were no visible markings on them anywhere, but Merlin could see the magical inscriptions hidden from sight. They were wards, designed to alert of trespassers. Oh yes, the druids had known of SG-9's presence.

As he stretched his magic, he could feel other magics reach out and brush at it. He grinned. There were druids still living here, and close by at that. He scanned the treeline, thinking.

“Ah, yes,” he finally announced with a wide grin. “I think this way would be best.”

And then, holding his staff high as he walked (so that it wouldn't sink too much into the soft earth), he strode purposefully towards a particularly gnarled old oak tree.

“Hey, woah, hold on there, Doc,” Colonel Goodman ran ahead of Merlin in order to stop him in his tracks. “This is an alien planet. You can't just go dashing off before we've secured the perimeter. It could be danger-”

“Nonsense, young man, the druids are peaceful folk.” He slid around the colonel and continued on. “Don't worry, if anything tries to eat you, I'll protect you!”

“Told you that walking stick of his is some sort of weapon,” one of the lieutenants muttered.

Colonel Goodman growled in irritation as he swung around to follow the scholar.

“Doctor Hunith- oomph!”

“Do watch where you're going, colonel.”

Goodman glared up at the old man, who'd stopped abruptly with his walking stick precisely in the way of the colonel's boot. Merlin ignored him, staring intently at the treeline.

“And the rest of you, put your weapons down,” he said. “As I've said before: they're peaceful people.”

“Who's peaceful?” Goodman asked, scrambling to his feet, following Merlin's gaze to the treeline. “Woah!”

Merlin had felt them coming, but now the first of them were finally visible. Their dark brown cloaks hid them amongst the shadows of the trees, making their faces appear as pale spectres in contrast. Merlin pulled back his magic and bowed in greeting.

Several of the elders stepped forward, out of the shadows of the forest and bowed to him as well.

_You are... Are you Emrys?_

Merlin felt the voice in his head and smiled.

_Yes, I am. But I am not known by that name anymore. Please don't call me that._

More druids appeared from out of the forest: children as well as adults. There was a sort of awe in their faces.

_We thought we had missed your coming when the Morrigen took us away from Albion and brought us here. That the time of the Once and Future King had passed without us._

 

Merlin sighed.

_Yes, Albion's high king did rule long ago. But his time will come again. Soon._

The surprise on the elder's face quickly turned to joy.

“Welcome, friends, to the Forest of Albion,” he said with a friendly smile. “I am Elowan. Please, come join us for our midday meal.”

“Thank you, Elowan,” said Merlin with a similar smile. “My name is Merlin. This is Colonel Goodman. We would be honoured to join you.”

Having said that much for show, he swiftly followed the druids into the forest, ignoring the grumbling soldier as he went after them.

 

* * *

 

“Yes, sir, understood, sir,” said Goodman to the MALP, looking worried.

“What is it?” Merlin demanded angrily. “Don't tell me O'Neill has suddenly created some sort of emergency for which we have to return?”

Goodman scowled at him.

“The SGC's under lockdown,” he said. “No one in or out 'till it's lifted.”

“Oh.”

“What's going on, sir?” his second-in-command asked.

“Apparently Anubis isn't as dead as we'd like him to be.”

Merlin frowned, his eyes darting to the stargate a few times before shaking his head.

“I'm sure they'll manage without us,” he declared. His eyes lit up with glee. “In the meantime, there's plenty of herbs to pick and stories to hear and, oh! Since we've got the time now, I'm told there's this shrine deeper in the woods by a waterfall we should visit!”

Goodman watched Hunithson hurry off with a resigned sigh.

 


	15. Incident 15

 

Daniel leisurely strolled into the gateroom with one hand in his pocket and the other resting in its sling. He saw Jack waiting by the stargate: far enough away from the foot of the ramp in order to avoid appearing anxious and instead like a good general concerned for his people. Daniel chuckled and walked up to him.

“Hey, Jack, is this the last team you're waiting for?” he said.

Jack sent him a scathing glare.

“You know full well it is,” he said. “Also, you should know I'm holding you personally responsible for all of the archaeologists thinking they have the right to undermine the command of military officers.”

Daniel snorted.

“Jack, this is Doctor Hunithson we're talking about. I'm pretty sure I had nothing to do with him. He's managed to to get the marines on base whipped all on his own.”

“Maybe. Either way, though, his was only one of two teams that never made their way to the Alpha Site at the end of their mission. And the second team was on a diplomatic mission helping to rebuild a village or something.”

“Well, so long as they weren't in any danger...” Daniel shrugged, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the stitches in his shoulder.

Jack's reply was lost as the stargate began to light up and spin.

“General, we're getting SG-9's IDC,” Sergeant Harriman's voice announced and Jack waved at him to open the iris.

The youngest member of SG-9 strolled through first, looking relaxed and well-rested. If not for the uniform and gun, Jack would've thought he'd just returned from vacation. Hunithson scuttled through right behind him, holding his walking stick in one hand and carrying a basket in the other.

He grinned when he saw Jack and hurried past the soldier.

“Ah, general,” he declared, handing Jack the basket. “I've brought you a souvenir.”

Jack gave the old man a suspicious look before peeking under the thick linen cloth tucked over the basket's contents. He raised an eyebrow at the rounded purple lumps that smelt of soil and starch.

“And what exactly are these?” he asked.

Hunithson rolled his eyes. “Potatoes, obviously. They're a little on the purple side, granted, but absolutely delicious. Extremely healthy and nutritious as well.”

“You brought me potatoes.” Jack looked at him, trying to figure out where the catch was.

“And fish.”

“Fish?”

Jack looked up as he heard the stargate disengage. Colonel Goodman was walking down the ramp with an extremely amused expression on his face. Jack decided he didn't like that expression. His second-in-command, Major Gunning was walking beside the MALP steadying something on top of it.

Something long and round and wrapped in reeds and more of that rough linen cloth. There was a double tail fin sticking out of one end. The entire package looked about the size of a man.

“Yes, fish,” Doctor Hunithson said. “I've heard you might need reminding of what one looks like to give you a better idea of what to look for the next time you're at your cabin.”

There was a rather distinct coughing sound coming from Daniel's direction. Then, a rather red-faced Daniel walked up to his fellow archaeologist.

“Um, yes, well, Jack, I think I should escort Doctor Hunithson to the infirmary so that Doctor Brightman can begin with her poking and prodding,” Daniel said quickly. “You know how concerned she was about his health... I'll make sure he makes it to the debriefing.”

“Daniel!” Hunithson exclaimed. “You're injured! What happened?”

“Oh, I sort of got possessed by Anubis...”

Hunithson shook his head and took something out of his pocket, handing it to Daniel.

“Here, this is your souveneir. The druids made it; it's a protection amulet. I believe you'll find it useful as you must be the most prolific danger-magnet I've ever known and believe me, I've known plenty. Of course, at least you have the intelligence and common sense not to actually go looking for danger...”

Jack watched them hurry off without a word. Then he turned back to SG-9.

Several airmen were already helping them unload the MALP. However, it seemed the team wanted to unload their prize catch themselves. Major Gunnings staggered as he handed the fish off to the two lieutenants on his team. Then he turned and began to unload _a second fish_. 

As Jack gaped, Colonel Goodman walked down the ramp.

“So, general,” he said. “What d'you suppose our chances are of getting the kitchens to make us grilled fish for dinner?”

“Is it safe?”

Goodman shrugged.

“Might need a saw to get it open; damn thing's scales are lined with trinium or something. Should give the scientists something to play with too. But we ate the monsters on the planet with no problem.” He grinned. “Those potatoes, though, they're really something. Like instant energy food: the druids make a sort of drink out of them too for when they go travelling.”

“Great, so now we're an episode of The Travelling Chef?” Jack muttered. He snapped his fingers. “Now there's an idea! We should publish a cookbook: _Recepies from Space_. The Pentagon's always complaining how much this program costs; this could make us instant millions. Maybe enough to buy us an army of MALPs! Or a really fancy UAV – maybe even one that works properly.”

“Brilliant plan, sir,” said Goodman. “Uh... so, what do you want us to do with...?”

He gestured to the fish the rest of his team were holding.

“Take it to the science labs,” Jack waved them off. “I'll call the kitchens.”

Jack grumbled all the way to his office about the unfairness of the universe. It wasn't until he got there that he realized he still had the potatoes.


	16. Incident 16

“Daniel, stop whining!”

“I am not whining!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Well, Jack, if I am whining then it's all your fault to begin with.”

“Now you're just being childish!”

“Fine! I'll just go and take my whiney, childish self home and out of your presence!”

“Ah ah, oh no you don't! Nice try Daniel, but nope, not gonna happen. You're going suit shopping with me and you're going to like it!”

Daniel snorted. “I don't see why. You don't need a suit; you'll be wearing your dress uniform to meet the president.”

“Because _you_ need one.”

“There's nothing wrong with the one I own.”

“Yes, there is. Carter said so.”

“Jack, Sam's an astrophysicist, who wears BDUs more often than jeans, not a fashionista.”

“She's also a woman and women usually know these things.”

“I seriously hope you don't need me to tell you just how ridiculous that argument is.”

“Would saying 'no' stop you?”

“Only if it's accompanied by a 'you're right, Daniel, you can leave this shameful den of unapologetic consumerism and go home'.”

“Since when do you have a problem with consumerism?”

“I generally don't... unless someone drags me to a mall against my will.”

“You know, on a scale of one to one hundred of worst places you've ever been dragged to against your will, I'm not sure a mall even places in the top nineties. Unless you've been developing some new kinks I'd rather remain oblivious to.”

“Yes. Would you like to hear all about them?”

“Uh... hey, is that, who I think it is?”

“Smooth subject changing, O'Neill, really subtle that was.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he stopped walking. “No, seriously, over there, in the music store.”

Daniel looked to the music store in question with a frown. It was a little difficult to get a clear look inside as people kept walking across his field of vision on their way around the mall. He scanned the scatterings of people inside for anyone vaguely familiar, until his eyes spotted a young man with short, dark hair studying the back of a CD.

“Oh,” said Daniel. “Isn't that Merlin's nephew?”

“Yup, apparently so. Guess he's visiting again.”

Daniel didn't respond as he was already weaving his way through the throngs of shoppers towards the music store. Jack followed.

Merlin, meanwhile, had no idea he'd been spotted. He was busy deciding whether the CD in his hand was something worth knowing about. Modern music confused him. The days of minstrels and long ballads depicting grand love and great battles were long gone and he often found he missed them. Music made sense then. It had a purpose.

He sighed wistfully. Really, what sort of a name was Lady Gaga anyway?

He slid the CD back onto the rack. Maybe some of that reggae...

“Well, hello there, visiting your uncle again, are you?” a voice said from behind him.

Merlin cursed inwardly as he turned around, blinking innocently at the general. He noticed Daniel give his friend a warning glare.

“Oh, hello,” he said. “You, uh, work with my uncle, right?”

“Yes, we do,” said Daniel, smiling at him pleasantly. “We never did get a chance from proper introductions the last time we met.” He stuck his hand out for Merlin to shake. “I'm Daniel and this is Jack.”

Merlin shook Daniel's hand.

“It's nice to meet you Daniel, Jack,” he said and then picked a random Knight of the Round Table. “I'm Percival.”

“Nice to meet you, Percy,” said Jack. “So... you visiting again?”

“Yes, I am.”

Merlin smiled widely – it was what Arthur always called his 'idiot manservant smile'. Jack frowned in irritation. Inwardly, Merlin tried to come up with a good reason for him to leave quickly. He'd been playing the role of an old man for too long (though, technically speaking, he really was an old man even if he didn't always look like one). And if anyone non-magical could figure out there was something more than a familial connection between the uncle and nephew, it was Daniel Jackson.

All they'd need to confirm it was a single hair; he knew that much about modern science. At least he'd watched enough television to know that much about modern science.

As Jack and Daniel continued to ask him questions, Merlin wracked his brain to come up with an excuse to leave. His eyes swept the music store until inspiration finally hit. It was a bit flashier than he would've liked, but he wasn't about to be picky.

He used the moment when he moved aside to let someone else pass by him to lower his eyes and whisper a spell under his breath.

Jack was beginning to get really irritated with the kid. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was dodging their questions – and Jack wasn't entirely sure he did know better. When asked, Hunithson had acknowledged Percy here was his nephew, but other than that had said very little on the subject. Including his name, apparently, since not even Daniel seemed to have known it.

Was the kid James Bond Jr. or something?

The sudden screech of the fire alarm jolted Jack out of his thoughts. Beside him, Daniel jumped a bit as well.

“Oh,” said Percy. He then shrugged apologetically. “I suppose that means we should leave.”

He then smiled and walked around them to leave the store. Jack's eyes narrowed and he followed him, knowing Daniel would be right behind. Percy was several steps ahead of them, casually walking amongst the throng of people on their way to the mall entrance.

Until, suddenly, he was no longer just ahead of them. He was nowhere.

The next day, Jack requested a check done on Doctor Hunithson's nephew.


	17. Incident 17

It was a Monday at precisely 15:34 when the Trust decided that they needed information from someone inside the SGC. Doctor Jackson was MIA, so they looked through the personnel list, chose the weakest link and sent out orders.

Three days later, former NID agents – now Trust operatives - Oden and Brayart pulled up to the curb two blocks down from the address they'd been given. Fortunately for them, they were able to camouflage themselves by sliding in next to the black, unmarked car already parked in front of a bright blue house, whose curtains looked like an explosion of daisies. It was an auspicious co-incidence.

Agent Oden waited in the car while agent Brayart snuck into the target's house and drugged the water jug in the fridge. They then waited for their target to arrive home from work.

They waited for five hours.

The sun had already set when, finally, a bright green Volvo pulled into the correct driveway and an old man with a long, white beard and a walking stick shuffled out. The two operatives exchanged smirks. This mission was going to be a walk in the park.

Unfortunately, no had warned them about the bears, alligators and snakes present in this proverbial park.

They gave Doctor Merlin Gaius Hunithson an hour and a half to get settled, wind down and drink some water. Then they drove the car around the block before pulling up into his driveway.

They affixed silencers to their guns and pulled on tight-fitting dark leather gloves.

Agent Oden rung the doorbell. They waited. He rung it again. Again, no reply. Agent Brayart opened the screen door and carefully picked the lock. Guns at the ready, they crept into the house.

“Doctor Hunithson!” Agent Brayart called out.

Agent Oden nudged him from the side and then gestured to the living room, where the old man was slumped over onto the couch, sleeping peacefully.

“Let's make sure he's alone,” Brayart whispered.

Oden nodded and proceeded to follow his fellow agent in a sweep of the first floor rooms. As they turned their backs on the old man, neither one of them noticed his eyes open, nor did they notice the smirk that appeared on his face.

They certainly didn't notice when time froze.

Merlin walked out of his living room and stared for a moment at the two frozen men invading his house. He'd felt his protection wards being tripped while he was still at the mountain. The drugged water was clever, but poisons and drugs didn't work on him the same way anymore.

Merlin took a few moments to decide what to do next. Then he grinned and arranged things to his liking.

 

* * *

 

Agent Oden carefully turned the corner into the kitchen. His foot caught on something and he looked down – although not quickly enough to stop the rake's wooden handle from whapping him across the face.

He hissed and fumbled the rake away from him as he cradled the left side of his face. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the ice water spilt on the floor and no sooner had he disengaged himself from the implement, he slipped on some stray ice cubes and fell onto his back.

Meanwhile, Agent Brayart was sneaking towards the laundry room and basement door, which had a large indoor palm tree between them. He opened the door to the basement, pausing when he heard a noise from the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” he called softly, brushing away the palm leaf that was tickling the back of his neck.

There was no answer. Something brushed against the other side of his neck. Brayart moved his head to shake it off, but instead brushed against something more solid. He heard a low hiss next to his ear.

Brayart turned to find himself looking into the slitted eyes of a not-at-all-proverbial snake. He cried out in surprise and jumped backwards, hitting the back of his head on the door frame and then missing the first step down, which sent him tumbling down the steps.

The two agents met again in the hallway. There was a red slash across Oden's face and Brayart was limping.

“Was there something I could help you with gentlemen?” a voice asked pleasantly.

They both looked towards the living room, where a now very much awake old man was leaning against his walking stick.

They raised their guns, but he disappeared into the living room. Growling, they stalked after him.

“Oh, do be careful-” they heard as they entered, just before their feet slid out from under them “-I'm afraid I was rather clumsy while cleaning my weapons and spilt some of the polish.”

Said polish sent both of them careening across the room and into a wood cabinet. Agent Brayart looked up just in time to see a sturdy battle axe fall from the top of the cabinet and embed itself into the hardwood floor, centimetres away from bits of him he would've dearly missed.

His eyes remained glued to the axe, thus missed seeing the sword that caught Oden by the edge of his jacket.

Something noisy and black flew into their faces.

Ten minutes later, Merlin picked up his phone.

“Yes, hello,” he said when it was answered. “I'd like to report a home invasion...”

 

* * *

 

Jack walked into the house and looked around. He saw some police officers, a conspicuous mess in the kitchen and a very shiny floor in the living room, a few medieval weapons embedded into it and two men in black tied up back to back, a crow sitting on top of the heads, pecking at them occasionally.

“Aren't you a little too old to be finding your inner Macaulay Calkin?” he asked Doctor Hunithson.

Hunithson frowned at him.

“Probably, as I have no idea what you're talking about.”

A week later Doctor Hunithson found three DVDs on his desk entitled _Home Alone_.


	18. THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally wrote this story, it was - as you've probably guessed - December. And, as this is the only story I can ever forsee writing that would allow for a Christmas chapter, I decided to go along with the season and write one. And not care about the wordcount while I was at it. 
> 
> Only one chapter this time, because I think this one sort of stands on its own.
> 
> Tissue warnings do apply!

* * *

 

On the whole, Merlin quite liked Christmas. It wasn't his holiday, but it was hard to hate a season that brought out so many colours and lights and delicious smells. He'd once had a housekeeper, who made him fall in love Christmas simply on account of the baking she did each year. Unfortunately, he was too old and had seen too much to be blind to the misery that came hand-in-hand with the season, to see the stress lines increase on adults' faces, the pain of loss grow sharper and the sadness of loneliness become an almost unbearable yoke to some.

Though not blind, still he looked for the joy within its depths. And, more often than not, created it himself.

Which was why he always spent Christmas surrounded by children. Hospitals, orphanages, small village schools in the middle of Siberia: he always found somewhere to be. Adults never questioned the old gentleman, who walked in on Christmas Eve with a large turkey, goose or pig to roast and a bag full of wrapped boxeds. They thought him eccentric, but they never questioned him.

So, yes, on the whole, Merlin enjoyed the season. His only complaint was that lately everyone expected him to wear a red coat and hat. General O'Neill had even gone so far as to leave him a red velvet one on his desk.

Merlin responded with a maroon and green, bejewelled jester's hat with silver jingle bells on its ends.

Christmas Eve came and so Merlin opened his enchanted chest and took out his finest cloak: bright red, trimmed with wolf fur and with a dragon stitched onto the back with gold threat. It was the same robe he'd worn at official functions as Court Sorcerer.

The hospital staff had been told to expect him at their Christmas party for the children. He strode into the communal playroom in a swirl of cloak and a clack of his staff. It smelt of chocolate, cinnamon and apple cider and was brightly decorated with paper and popcorn chains and fake pine branches. In the back corner there stood a brightly-decorated tree, its ornaments clearly a loving accumulation of the ages.

It didn't take long for the first children to notice his entrance. And then there was a chorus of giddy laughter and squeals. Some parents greeted him with a smile and a nod – he'd met a fair few of them over the past year.

He felt a tug on his cloak and looked down at the little, dark-skinned boy - whose full-leg cast looked heavier than he did - and raised an eyebrow. “You're not dressed as Santa Claus,” the boy said, looking rather puzzled.

“Humph, of course I'm not dressed as Santa Claus,” said Merlin. “I'm a miserable sorcerer, not a jolly elf!”

He shook his head and began to walked to the large, stuffed chair sitting empty against the wall. “Children these days! Can't even tell the difference between a sorcerer and an elf! The world is clearly doomed...”

“Hey cool! There's a dragon on your back!”

Merlin smirked.

“Why yes there is,” he said to the pale, bald-headed boy named Henry. “And it's not just any dragon, either. This is the crest of the greatest king that ever lived.”

“Wow.”

When Merlin sat down into the chair, the children automatically congregated around him. He eyed them for the moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as he noticed their eyes sliding curiously to the large, brown burlap sac he'd brought with him.

“That's a really big bag, Mister Dragoon,” a little blonde girl with tinsel and ribbons in her hair finally said.

“Yes, I suppose it is, Pansy.”

He waited a few moments.

“What's in it?” a slightly older boy called out from his wheelchair as he tried to move his IV stand in order to see better.

“Hm, well I'm not sure really. There's a stack of boxes in there with tags attached to them which, I suppose, must mean they're meant to be given to someone. Alas, my eyes aren't what they used to be, so I'm not sure who they're for. I don't suppose any of you can read?”

There was a chorus of excited cries and an array of arms shot up. Merlin smiled and then narrowed his eyes at a small, part-Asian girl with pigtails.

“Carly, you look too little to know how to read. You can't really read!”

“I can!” she protested, looking outraged.

“Fine, then come over here and prove it!” Then he pointed to a dark-haired boy bouncing in the crowd. “Ben, you look like you have some excess sugar to burn off, so why don't you help distribute them.”

The boy grinned happily and leaped to his feet, eagerly helping the older girl open the bag, which turned out to be filled with red, square boxes (large enough to fit a good-sized coffee mug), tied with gold ribbon.

While Carly proved she could indeed read and Ben ran around distributing gifts, Merlin motioned to one of the volunteers – one Cassandra Fraiser. She grinned at him.

“Where's Tina?” he whispered with a frown.

The smile on Cassie's face disappeared.

“She had a relapse,” she whispered back. “Was rushed off to surgery about two hours ago. I don't think she's out yet.”

Merlin sighed. He remembered the sweet little girl who'd once told him with a serious face that, even though he wasn't as cool as Albus Dumbledore, he was still her favourite wizard. He looked around: at the faces of the children, happy despite their varied reasons for being inside the hospital on Christmas Eve, their parents' faces and the sparkling, happy tree.

Then his eyes narrowed in thought.

“Dragoon?” Cassie asked gently.

“Christmas is truly a magical time of year, isn't it?” he said absently.

“Yeah, I suppose so...”

“Hmm.”

“Dragoon the Great!” Ben called out. Merlin turned to him and noticed that the boy was holding one, last box in his hand. “This one doesn't have a tag!”

“Doesn't it? Well give that here then, that's a good boy.” He thanked Ben and Carly, sending them back to their seats, before handing the small box to Cassie. “There you go, young lady. Merry Christmas.”

Cassie smiled, eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Oh, wow, thanks!”

“You're welcome.”

Merlin turned back to the crowd of children, who'd already covered the ground with bits of red paper and gold ribbon. More than a few empty boxes laid discarded on the floor, their contents being held up and examined from all sides.

Each child held a small wooden dragon painted with green and gold scales and delicate wings stretched out, as though preparing to take off and fly away.

“Alright, settle down you brats!” Merlin called. “I'm going to tell you all a story.”

“Oooh, the Story of Christmas?” one girl asked.

“Nah, I wanna hear the Grinch!”

“No. You clearly know all those anyway! I'm going to tell you one you haven't heard before.”

That got their attention. Even the bored-looking thirteen-year-olds at the back of the group showed signs of vague animation.

“Right then. Everyone hold out your dragons.” They did. “I'd like to introduce you to the Great Dragon Kilgharrah. Obviously he's not the real Great Dragon, as the real one's about the size of a small house. This is just a silly tree ornament. Kilgharrah was an old and wise dragon, the last of his kind.”

“I've never heard of this dragon,” a boy with glasses asked. His name was Lyon; he loved dragons. And dinosaurs, which were almost as cool as dragons except they didn't breath fire. “He can't be that great if _I_ haven't heard of him.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the boy.

“You may not have heard of Kilgharrah, but I'll bet you've heard of the sword he helped forge.”

“A sword?” another boy asked.

“How did a dragon forge a sword?” Carly asked with a frown.

“Be silent for a moment and I'll tell you!” He mock-glared the children into an eager silence. Then he sat back and cleared his throat.

“In a land of myth and a time of magic...”

 

* * *

 

It was just past midnight when Merlin returned to the hospital, magic allowing him to enter through the visitor's entrance undetected. The lights had been dimmed for the night and no one sat at the information desk in the lobby. In the distance, one could hear the lonely beeping of medical machines and the occasional hushed whisper of hospital staff as they breezed through the halls.

The beeping stopped and hushed tones disappeared as time froze.

Merlin wasted no time in making his way through winding corridors up into the half-empty children's ward – empty of the lucky ones who'd been able to go home with their parents after the party (some were getting picked up in the morning). On his way he sent tendrils of magic over towards the intensive care ward, where it managed to find the small body barely hanging on to life.

Before he'd left after the party, one of the nurses had whispered to him that little Tina had come out of surgery alive, but the doctors weren't sure for how long. He'd then gone to see her parents, giving them a small red box tied with gold ribbon – for Tina when she recovered, he'd said.

His magic didn't lie though: Tina wouldn't live to see the sun rise.

He walked into the first room of the girl's ward and his staff glowed, blanketing the room with magic.

“All right, up and at 'em!” he called out, violently throwing the privacy curtains aside.

“Dragoon?” Carly asked sleepily rubbing her eyes. “Why are you-”

“No time for that! Everyone up! We need to wake the others.”

Still mostly half-sleep, the girls obeyed him, not noticing when their various IV bags moved themselves into portable stands. It wasn't until they moved to the hallway that they noticed anything was truly wrong.

One of them screamed when she noticed the frozen nurse in the hallway. They all stopped to stare at her in fear and wonder.

“D-Dragoon, what's going on?” a little dark-skinned girl named Ashley asked.

They all looked at him. Merlin raised an eyebrow at them.

“Why magic, of course,” he said, as though it were obvious. “Don't worry, I'll return everything to normal after we're done.”

The girls still looked a little wary but as they moved from room to room, gathering children as they went, fear turned to excitement. If some of the children were moving easier than they should have been able to, they didn't notice and certainly didn't question it when they did.

It was Christmas and something magical was happening. That was all they needed to know.

They stopped in the last room, where the children were bedridden with too many tubes stuck into their bodies for Merlin to magic away. Several of the older children helped them sit up. Then Merlin called everyone to attention and they quieted almost instantly.

“As most of you probably know, your friend Tina was rushed into surgery yesterday afternoon,” he began. “Now my friends at NORAD might be tracking Santa Claus as he travels across the world, but unfortunately, Santa won't be able to help Tina.” He shook his head sadly. “Tina will never get to see Christmas.”

Several of the children gasped. For some, this wasn't the first time they'd seen one of their friends rushed away and then never come back.

“Is she going to die?” an older girl – Rachel – asked in a quiet voice.

Merlin nodded.

“Yes, she is. That is, she would. But tonight is Christmas...” He winked at them. “And so, we're going to preform a miracle.”

Sure enough, their eyes widened and grins began to appear in the assembled crowd.

“Right, we'd best get on with it. I can't exactly freeze time indefinitely, you know.” He stepped forward, into the centre of the room. “Gather around me. When I begin to chant, I need you to close your eyes and think with all your hearts how you want Tina to get better.”

Merlin waited for the children to settle and then he tapped his staff on the ground. The stone began to glow until its light bathed the room in soft brightness. There were gasps and even the sceptical not-children of twelve and thirteen stood there for a few moments, gaping. Merlin smirked at them, watching their expressions change to true awe as his eyes began to glow with magic.

He began to chant, no longer watching the children, but knowing they were closing their eyes and sending positive thoughts to Tina: he felt them sending her strength through his magic.

He felt his magic settle around Tina's frail body and nudged it to use the magic to repair itself. And after a few, tense, minutes, it did. Merlin smiled when he felt the inevitability of death leave her and pulled back his magic shortly after.

The light from his staffed dimmed and then vanished and his eyes lost their golden hue. He looked down at the children who were slowly opening their eyes, looking awed and disorientated.

“We've done it,” he said. “We've preformed a miracle. Tina is going to live.”

He was glad time was frozen, because their cheers would've woken up the entire hospital.

“However,” Merlin continued, silencing them all with a sharp look. “Adults are sometimes quite silly and blind. You see, they've forgotten that magic is real, that the impossible is sometimes possible. So what happened here tonight is going to have to be our secret. Hold on to it and, most importantly, as you all grow up and become one of those silly adults, don't forget.”

He met each and every one of their eyes.

“I want you to promise never to forget what happened here tonight. Because even if no one else knows, as long as you don't forget about this Christmas miracle and about Kilgharrah the dragon, it doesn't matter. Remember Kilgharrah's story so that one day you can pass it on to others. Because one day, it will be a very important story and you will be one of the very few, who know it.”

A chorus of 'we promise' sounded in the crowed room. Merlin beamed proudly at them and they beamed happily back.

“Now then, everyone off to bed! If I don't unfreeze time, Santa Claus will never be able to arrive!”

The children were back in their beds in record time. Tired out as they were, they fell asleep even faster.

Merlin was moving slowly, feeling every one of his many, many years as he exited the hospital. With a wave of his hand, time returned to normal and a large weight lifted off his shoulders. A whispered spell, and the old man was gone in a flurry of wind and snow.

Five minutes later, Tina opened her eyes.


	19. Incident 19

Jack's office door swung open and Doctor Hunithson swept into the room.

“General O'Neill, if you want- oh. Oh dear.” Then the man stepped back out of the room and called to someone down the hall. “Oi, you there, get over here! Look's like the general's got it; you'll have to take him to the infirmary!”

Jack glared at him from beside his desk, but any comment he would've liked to have made died as his stomach rolled over and once again prompted him to lean over the metal trash can. A few moments after he'd finally stopped emptying the contents of his stomach, there were strong arms lifting him up from either side. He tried to protest, but it came out as more of a miserable groan.

He was going to give SG-4 the most miserable, bad-weathered planet imaginable for their next very boring mineral-collecting mission. And, no, it didn't make him feel any better that they'd been the first to come down with this bug and therefore had it for the longest before the medical staff found an anti-virus that worked.

Meanwhile, Merlin called down to the infirmary (he now knew that extension very well: calling it was almost becoming routine) to let them know to expect the general. Then he picked up the waste bucket and handed it to one of the airmen. The airman in question grimaced in disgust at the smell wafting from it and then looked to Merlin in question.

“Would you rather end up cleaning your uniform?” said Merlin, raising a single, bushy white eyebrow in a way that would've made Gaius proud. “Or the walls perhaps?”

“No, sir,” said the airman, taking the can carefully and then holding it as far away from himself as possible.

They made it to the end of the hall, before Merlin heard the sound of vomiting. Merlin took a few minutes to rearrange everything on the general's desk.

Then the kalxon alarm sounded.

“ _Unauthorized gate activation!”_

Merlin cursed and hurried off to the control room. Several heads turned when he entered and then frowned in confusion.

“The general's just come down with that infernal stomach flu,” Merlin said. “He's on his way to the infirmary now.”

“Uh, who's in command then, sir?” Sergeant Walter Harriman asked.

“How am I supposed to know? I don't pay attention to any of that military nonsense! Now what's going on here, young man?”

“Uh...”

“I wish to speak to General O'Neill!” a voice boomed from the gateroom amidst the sound of guns being readied.

Merlin and looked out into the gateroom.

“Oh boy,” Harriman said in a low voice. “This is bad.”

Merlin frowned. “I thought nothing could get through the iris.”

“It's a holographic projection. Ba'al's used it before to contact us.”

“I see.” Merlin sighed. “Well, I suppose there's nothing that can be done about that. You figure out who's in charge then and I'll go sort out the god.”

“Huh? Wait, wha-”

Merlin paid no attention to any protests; he'd learnt over the years that the best way to deal with soldiers was to charge onwards and let them catch up. It usually worked. Well, it had worked on everyone since Arthur, who had known him well enough to anticipate such moves.

“Where is General O'Neill?!” Ba'al demanded again, looking up at the glass window with an impatient scowl on his face.

“General O'Neill is indisposed at the moment,” Merlin called as he entered, his walking stick clanking along with him. “A bit busy being in the grips of a rather virulent stomach flu and plotting the demise of the team that brought it back with them as a souvenir from the last planet they visited. I'm sure he'd happily send it along with his regards.”

Ba'al's lips twitched, although whether at Merlin or at the image of Jack O'Neill being violently sick was anyone's guess.

Merlin squeezed through the line of marines, whose guns were drawn and pointed at the Goa'uld. He rolled his eyes.

“And you lot can put those guns away,” he said, walking up to Ba'al and waving his staff so that it passed through him twice. The god looked outraged. “He's all smoke and mirrors at the moment, so it's not like they'll do you any good.”

The marines exchanged looks, not at all sure what they were supposed to do. Then they looked back to see the expectantly-raised eyebrows on Doctor Hunithson's face. Slowly, their guns came down. Merlin nodded once and then turned back to Ba'al.

“Now then, is there anything I can help you with – Ba'al, was it?” Merlin asked him with a pleasant smile. “I could relay a message to the general if you like. I'm sure he'll get back to you as soon as he's well enough.”

“Who are you?” Ba'al asked with narrowed eyes.

“I'm Merlin. Doctor Merlin Hunithson: I specialize in medieval European history.”

Ba'al blinked and frowned in confusion. “You are not a member of an SG team then?”

“Oh no, traipsing across the universe, fighting evil and saving planets is a job for much younger men and women. No, no, I've settled for studying the Evil Overlord's List.”

“The Evil Overlord's List.”

“Indeed. One never knows when one might need to become an evil overlord. Best to always be prepared, I say.”

When Colonel Makepeace finally ran into the gateroom fifteen minutes later to deal with the situation, he found a group of very perplexed marines listening to Doctor Hunithson and Ba'al debate the finer points of the Evil Overlord's List.

He very nearly walked right back out of the gateroom.


	20. incident 20

Merlin's had thus far managed to avoid meeting any of the Tok'ra. It wasn't actually all that difficult, really. Though memorable, he wasn't exactly an important member of the base and his expertise didn't lie in anything the Tok'ra held any interest in.

And he'd lost the patience for diplomacy centuries ago.

As a result he wasn't particularly happy when he felt the dual presence of a human and symbiont approaching the part of the mountain where he was burning General O'Neill's latest slap-dap-happy creation (exactly how the man had managed to get his hands on fake fur of that shade of blue without magic was a mystery Merlin never wanted to solve). And so it came as no surprise when Jacob Carter walked out into the clearing. He was wearing a rather perplexed look on his face as he took in the scene.

“I was a bit concerned when the airmen were doing nothing about the very obvious smell of burning,” the former general broke the silence with. “But apparently you do this often...”

Merlin shrugged.

“So long as General O'Neill continues to give me these ridiculous hats, I will continue to burn them,” he said.

“I see.” A pause. “I don't believe we've met. I'm Jacob Carter-”

“-and Selmak, yes I know. There aren't many at the SGC that don't.” Merlin used the end of his staff to nudge the burning brim a little further into the fire. “Doctor Merlin Hunithson.”

Jacob chuckled. Suddenly, a lot about the situation made sense. He had, in fact, heard of the eccentric archeologist, although not of this hat-burning habit.

“You're a bit of a legend yourself, Doctor Hunithson.”

Merlin's eyes snapped up to him with a speculative glint, which quickly turned to amusement.

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

Jacob joined Merlin by the fire, his mind relaxing at the peaceful quiet present in this small corner of the base. The only noise was the crackle of flames and Jacob lost himself as he stared into their depths. From just beyond the trees, they heard the sound of a passing vehicle. Merlin idly used his staff to poke at the hat, to make sure its top didn't fall out of the small circular fire pit he'd created for his hat-burnings.

“You know,” Jacob said thoughtfully. “That looks like it was an extraordinarily ugly hat.”

“Hmm...”

 

* * *

 

 

When Jacob walked into Jack's office he was feeling much calmer than before. Going up to the surface had been Selmak's idea and he was glad he'd taken the advice. Yes, the universe was still erupting into uncontrollable chaos and everyone was still in terrible danger from the replicators, but at least he was feeling much less panicked about it.

Although, he was rather confused about Doctor Hunithson's parting words.

“Don't worry too much, young man,” he'd said with a smile. “You'll come up with something brilliant to save us all. Or perhaps your daughter will. Either way, the truly dark days aren't due to come just yet.”

Jacob hadn't quite known what to say to that, so he'd stayed silent.

Jack was just hanging up the phone when Jacob walked in.

“The Pentagon is clearly not giving you enough work to do if you have the time to make ugly hats in your spare time,” Jacob told him.

Jack blinked and the burst out laughing. “I take it you met our resident wizard?”

“Wizard?” It took a slight nudge from Selmak for understanding to dawn. “Ah, of course. Long, white beard, walking stick, name Merlin.. got it.”

Jack chuckled. “So, what did you think of him?”

Jacob was about to answer, when he noticed the seriousness hiding underneath Jack's good humour. “Well, Jack, I thought he was a bit eccentric and possibly a bit insane in ways that don't seem to have anything to do with working in this place...” Jacob shrugged. “Admittedly we didn't exactly engage in stimulating conversation. Mostly I just watched him burn that hat you gave him.”

“I see.”

“Jack? What's this about?”

Jack paused, as though considering whether or not he should answer the question. Finally, he gestured for Jacob to close the door and then sit down.

“The NID's been investigating him,” he began. Jacob's eyes widened. “They've found nothing to connect him with anything suspicious, or anyone with any sort of interest in the SGC, but there's just something not quite right.”

“What do you mean?” Jacob asked with a frown. Despite having spent less than an hour with the man, he felt like he'd bonded with him over those flames and the stench of burning fake fur. “Has he done something suspicious?”

“Him personally? No. But his so-called nephew – who, incidentally, didn't show up in any of the background checks we did on Hunithson the first time 'round – is extremely suspicious.”

“You think he's Trust?”

“Not sure. His name is Percival Knight and he's supposedly the son of Elyan and Vivianne Knight, who died in a car crash about 10 years ago.” Jack paused for effect. “It's a lie and not a very well-constructed one either. Except that it's the only proof we have of his existence at all.”

“And Hunithson?”

“Aaah, now see he's the more interesting one. His background is solid, everything accounted for, nothing unusual. Until you go back about 50 years and then everything gets a bit hazy. It looks a bit like Merlin Hunithson didn't exist until about 50 years ago when he got accepted into Oxford University.”

Jacob sat back with a sigh. “Well damn.”

Jack suddenly propelled himself to his feet.

“Well, there's no point in worrying about one craggy old professor now! We've got a whole big universe to save. Again.” He clapped Jacob on the shoulder. “Let's go see what Sam's cooked up in your absence, shall we?”


	21. Incident 21

Daniel stared down at the newspaper in horror. Anubis was planning to destroy all life in the galaxy?!

He looked up from his stool, at the diner that wasn't a diner. The heavy-set man, who'd given him the newspaper had left and now he was once again back to being ignored by everyone. Except for Oma Desala, who set a fresh cup of coffee in front of him with an apologetic smile and flitted off before he could say a word.

Daniel looked down at his coffee and ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh.   Behind him, the bell over the door jingled.

Daniel took a sip of his coffee. He looked over to try and catch Oma's eye... only to see her looking at something behind him with wide-eyed shock. It took him mere seconds to realize the people she'd been serving were also watching the new arrival.   Daniel turned around in his stool in time to watch a blond man wearing chainmail and a sword at his hip walk up to the counter and swing his bright red cloak to one side as he sat down onto the stool beside him.

“A tankard of mead, if you please,” he called out to Oma Desala with a British accent.

Daniel frowned.

“Uh, I'm afraid they probably don't serve mead here,” he said tentatively.

The man glanced at Daniel. “Nonsense, what sort of proper establishment doesn't serve mead?” he said. Moments later, Oma placed a full wooden tankard in front of him. “Aaah, there, you see?” He raised the tankard in Daniel's direction. “To your health, Doctor Jackson,” he said.

Daniel blinked. “You know who I am.”

“Of course.” The man took a deep drink of his mead. In the meantime, Daniel couldn't help but notice the knight had attracted the attention of nearly everyone in the diner.

“I came here to meet you, after all,” the man suddenly continued.

Daniel chocked on the coffee he'd just taken a sip of. When he finally managed to stop coughing, he fixed a glare on the smug, grinning man.

“You did that on purpose, you ass,” he said.

The man snorted. “I did not. It's not my fault you can't drink properly.”

Daniel shook his head.

“So why exactly did you come to meet me?” he asked. “I don't suppose you're here to help defeat Anubis?”

“Ah, as much as I would love to help with that battle, no. I can't help with it from where I am and I can't leave until it's time. Until I'm needed.”

“What do you mean, 'where I am'? Aren't you an ascended too, just like everyone else here? Well, everyone except for me, obviously.”

The blond man glared angrily at Daniel.

“Don't mistake me for these cowards!” he spat before taking another drink of his mead.

Daniel jumped when he slammed the tankard down onto the counter.

“They decided to run away from their destiny and now they are paying the price. For every choice there is a price, Doctor Jackson. Where I and many others have found eternal peace, they cannot. I may come and go from this plane, but they are unable to follow me into the mists. For all their so-called enlightenment, they cannot see the way.”

He took one last drink, tipping the tankard practically upside-down in order to catch the very last drop. Then he placed it down and pushed it away from him. Oma Desala was immediately there to clear it away. The knight's eyes remained on her.

“Anubis shouldn't even _be_ your battle.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked with a frown.

The man shook his head dismissively and then stood.

“It was an honour to meet you, Doctor Jackson, though I'm not sure if you'll remember me. You and your friends have paved a path to the future. Your price will be to see the world's darkest hour. But remember that a single ray of hope shines even in the deepest darkness.”

Daniel stared at him. “You know, you kinda sound a lot like them,” he said.

The knight threw his head back and laughed. “'Till we meet again, Doctor Jackson,” he said.

Daniel watched him as he walked to the door. Hand on the knob, he paused and turned back to Daniel with a smile.

“Oh, and please tell the idiot sorcerer of mine I'll be seeing him soon.”

With those as his parting words, the man opened the door and walked into the mist that came out to meet him.

 

* * *

 

Merlin had to push his way past SG-1 in order to visit Daniel in the infirmary. He'd been reasonably certain the man hadn't been permenantly dead, but it was nice to have these things confirmed.

“Daniel!” he exclaimed with a wide smile. “It's good to see you alive and irritating the hospital staff already!”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I haven't been here _that_ long,” he said, before continuing in a slightly louder voice. “Nor will I be here long enough for it to happen.”

“I'll be the judge of that, Doctor Jackson,” Doctor Brightman answered promptly

“You were dead, Danny-boy, so no rushing the doctor,” said Jack with a happy grin.

Daniel frowned.

“There was someone...” he began and the furrows over his brow deepened. “A man with blond hair and a sword... I think I'm supposed to give someone a message, but I can't remember...”

Merlin placed a hand on Daniel's forearm. “Don't worry, my boy,” he said, a watery twinkle in his eyes. “You already have.”

Merlin knew he was leaving behind more fuel to the general's inquisitive fire as he left the infirmary, but the joy that suddenly gripped his heart was as sharp as a sword forged in dragon flames.


	22. Incident 22

In retrospect, Merlin decides he really should've paid more attention to British politics. It would've certainly helped prevent the heartattack-inducing moment when the British defense minister walked into the room.

Really, how exactly had Merlin managed to miss the fact that such a prominent politician looked exactly like Uther Pendragon?

Minister Uther King was clearly younger than the king Merlin had known, less battle-hardened and happier. His posture was still stiff and his dark blue suit perfectly cut and pressed. His eyes were hard and determined, but they lacked the bitterness and cruelty of Camelot's king. They lacked the maddness.

The reason for this difference was clear and she entered at his side wearing a simple, yet stylish gray dress paired with a dark blue blazer. Her hair was piled atop her head in a loose bun and held together with a blue and green jewelled hair pin. When UN Security Council representative Ygraine Borden-King smiled, Merlin's breath caught in his throat.

Arthur may have in many things been his father's son but that open, brilliant smile: that was his mother's.

There were other representatives from the countries of the IOA at the SGC's celebration of the defeat of both Anubis and the Replicators, but it was Uther and Ygraine, who Merlin spent most of the evening watching. He drank sparsly, the giddy anticipation bubbling in his veins headier than any alcohol could've ever managed to be as his eyes were continuously drawn to Ygraine and the invisible glow surrounding her.

When Daniel made his way to introduce himself to Uther, it quickly became apparent that, while this was a much mellower version of Uther Pendragon, the man's stubborness was fully intact. And some sort of residual hatred of magic apparently remained and turned into a distrust of the Stargate and aliens with superior technology.

Merlin watched them for twenty minutes, at which point Daniel looked ready to start tearing his hair out in frustration. So Merlin grabbed a plate, piled it up with an assortment of things from the buffet table and pretended to wander randomly up to the two men. He glanced to the far end of the room, where Ygraine was discussing something with the French and Russian ambassadors.

“Daniel, have you tried any of these little nibs?” he asked without preamble, interrupting what looks like a very heated discussion (not that one ever truly _discussed_ anything with Uther). “I think they're some sort of seafood...”

“Ah, Doctor Hunithson,” Daniel exclaimed, looking happy to see him. He gestured towards Uther. “Have you met Minister King? Minister King, this is Doctor Hunithson. He's our expert on medieval history.”

Merlin shook the minister's hand. It felt a bit odd being introduced to Uther as an equal and, even after all these years, there was still a part of Merlin that wanted to cringe and smile that 'I'm just a harmless, mentally-deficient idiot' smile he used so often at Uther's court.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintence, Minister,” Merlin said. He then took a step towards Uther and continued in a conspirational tone. “Incidentally, you should name him Arthur.”

Uther looked taken aback and Merlin knew he would treasure that expression for the rest of his life.

“Name who Arthur?” Uther asked, baffled.

“Why... your son, of course.”

Uther's expression turned thunderous (and wasn't that just nostalgic).

“I would thank you not to make light of such things,” he said through gritted teeth. “It is common knowledge that my wife and I have thus far been unable to concieve children.”

“But you have been trying, yes?”

Uther blinked. “Yes, of course we have. Both of us have been to some of the best doctors in the world-”

“Well then whatever it was you last tried seems to have worked, because believe me, your wife is with child.”

He let Uther absorb that information for a few moments, before smiling.

“It will be a son.” Uther's eyes snapped to him and the hope shining inside them almost made Merlin want to forgive his past self for all the maddness his grief had wrought. “And you should name him Arthur because, one day, he will do great things.”

Uther's eyes widen.

Merlin suddenly grabbed him by the arm and manhandled him around so that he was pushing him not-so-gently towards Ygraine.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he said. “If you don't believe me you should go get your wife and take her to a doctor. Immediately. In fact, we have an infirmary just a few levels down. Doctor Jackson can take you.”

“I can?” said Daniel. “Er, of course I can.”

Ygraine looked very confused as her husband dragged her out the door, but the look on his face managed to stop most of her protests.

Merlin watched them go with a pleased smile on his face.

General O'Neill walked up to Merlin with a frown. “Okay, what was that all about?” he asked.

“Destiny,” Merlin answered.

He then placed his plate down onto the nearest surface and grinned at the general.

“Well, I'm afraid these old bones of mine aren't made for late-night carrousing anymore,” he declared, ignoring O'Neill's snort. “And I have a bit of an errand to run before heading off to sleep.”

“An errand?” The general lookd at him sceptically. “What sort of errand?”

“I have to go meet a lady by a lake,” Merlin answered with a smirk and a mischievous wink.


	23. Incident 23

The morning after the party, Merlin came to work early. So early in fact that the base guards looked startled to see him.

The bundle in his hands set off the metal detectors in the NORAD lobby, but with a little bit of bullying and a quick call downstairs to confirm he wasn't just a crazy old man – or at the very least not a homicidal one - he was on his way. At the SGC entrance he only had to unwrap the bundle and give the two tired-eyed airmen a peek at its contents.

The general wasn't due into his office for at least another hour and Merlin took advantage of every minute. He left a letter on the desk before leaving.

Then he finally went to his office to gather up the few personal belongings he had there. There wasn't much: a mug that said 'Time Lord's Elixir' on it, a long, feather-tip pen, a rather bizarre alien bobble-head Merlin was sure had come from O'Neill, a rather sizeable stack of books and a stone from the Lake of Avalon. He put it all into his satchel alongside his emergency herb supply. When everything was packed away with the help of a little magic, he slung the satchel over his shoulder, picked up the wrapped bundle and left.

Daniel was inside the elevator when it opened, looking puzzled, but mostly very, very tired – as though he hadn't slept at all.

“Good morning, Daniel,” Merlin said as he stepped inside.

Daniel startled, his head snapping up as he blinked in confusion. “Oh, good morning, Merlin,” he answered back. Then he frowned. “You're in early.”

“Hmm, yes, I had a few things to take care of.”

The elevator doors slid shut and silence reined for a few moments.

“Thought you'd want to know you were right,” Daniel broke the silence.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, and what was I right about this time?”

“Ygraine Borden-King. She's really pregnant, although only about a month along. She hadn't noticed at all. It's amazing that you did.”

“Call it an old man's intuition.”

Daniel snorted. “Old men don't have intuition.”

“This one does.”

Daniel cocked his head at him thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you do.”

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Merlin exited, not at all surprised when Daniel sauntered out after him.

“So, any particular reason why you're headed to the gateroom?” Daniel asked casually.

Given that there was little else on this floor, it wasn't exactly like Merlin's destination was difficult to guess. He hadn't counted on encountering anyone this morning, but it wasn't a horrible thing either.

“I've just handed in my resignation,” he said after a pause. “So, I wanted to go take one, last look at the Stargate.”

“You've what?! Why?”

Merlin sighed, but didn't stop.

“Joining a project with the military was always a risk, but I felt it was one I needed to take. I just knew whatever this project was, I needed to see it with my own eyes so I could be prepared for the future.”

“I don't understand. Y-you realize you can't _tell_ anyone.”

Merlin chuckled. “Oh, no, I understand why all the secrecy. I have kept many secrets in my time and can only hope that one day there will come a time when the need for them will be gone.”

“What sort of secrets?”

“Not the sort the military is looking for, that's for certain.” He looked at Daniel out of the corner of his eye in time to see the younger man hide the surprise on his face. Merlin laughed. “Oh, yes, I am fully aware there have been people searching my house and following me around. They won't find anything, of course. Everything will lead them to dead ends, because the truth requires a leap of faith to believe the impossible. _You_ might have figured it out on your own, given time.”

“Uh, thanks. I think.”

They entered the gateroom and Merlin led Daniel to stand in front of the gate. It looked a little lonely, like an abandoned child's toy after the child had gone to bed. Merlin could feel its age, the power infusing it not quite magic, but not entirely other.

“Besides, I won't have to tell anyone anything,” Merlin continued as he gazed at the gate. “A secret this big cannot be kept indefinitely- nor should it be. And when it becomes known...”

Merlin shook his head and turned to Daniel.

“There are dark days to come, Daniel Jackson.” He backed away a few steps as he unwrapped the bundle in his hands. “Fortunately, from within the deepest darkness, a light of hope will shine the way.”

He raised Excalibur towards the sun miles above them, allowing the sword to light up the room by its own power. He gathered his magic.

Daniel gasped.

Then Merlin swung the sword so that it pointed towards the ground and pushed. Excalibur slid into the hard concrete as though it were freshly plouhed dirt.

When it was about half-way in, Merlin let go and stepped back. The sword began to rise steadily, the concrete floor following it, so that in mere moments, there was a small mound of concrete with a sword sticking out of it decorating the gateroom.

“Good-bye, Daniel Jackson,” Merlin said when it was done. Daniel simply stared back at him, stunned speechless. “I'm sure we'll meet again.”

Daniel couldn't quite catch what Merlin muttered under his breath, but suddenly a whirlwind seemed to come out of the floor and surround the old man and his glowing golden eyes. When it died down, Merlin was gone.

Daniel stared at the sword embeded inside a mound of concrete. Behind him, someone cleared their throat.

“Uh, sir...?”

Daniel turned to stare at the equally bewhildered marines behind him.

“Uh, I think I should go tell the general,” was the only thing he could think of saying. Then he dashed off.

He caught Jack just in front of his office.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned to Daniel. “Daniel?”

“Did you really have people digging into Doctor Hunithson's past?” Daniel demanded.

Jack stiffened. “And where exactly did you hear that?”

“From Doctor Hunithson. He's gone now, by the way. Apparently there's a resignation waiting for you on your desk.”

“What?!”

Jack threw the door open and flipped the light switch.

And froze, gapping at the array of space ships hanging from his office ceiling.

His bright yellow office ceilling.

Which matched the bright yellow walls.

And sort of matched the new blue and green polka-dotted carpet.

Which did not at all go with the pink and white fur-lined chair sitting behind his desk.

Neither man said anything for rather long period of time.

“You know, Jack, I somehow don't think this was a war you ever had a chance of winning,” Daniel finally managed to string enough brain cells together to say.

“Uhh...”

Suddenly, it was too much and Daniel burst into laughter. Jack scowled at him.

“Oh wow,” Daniel gasped. “I think this might just beat what he did to the gateroom.”

“Gateroom? What the hell did he do to the gateroom?!”

Daniel was laughing too hard to form a sensible answer, so Jack left him to it and ran off to see for himself. Once he'd managed to get a hold of himself, Daniel called Teal'c and told him to bring his camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos and comments! I'm happy to know you're enjoying my story. =D Don't worry, we're not at the end just yet. Next comes a three-part conclusion. However, it's longer than the other parts (I'm fairly certain it nearly doubles the wordcount of the story), so it will take a bit longer for me to go through it and edit. I haven't quite decided yet whether to post all three at once or one at a time. It'll probably depend on just how long it takes me. So basically, this is me apologizing in advance for the wait 'till the next update.


	24. The King

“When I was first introduced to the Stargate Program, I was horrified. I won't lie, I read report after report and saw nothing but evil, powerful aliens with technology and weapons we couldn't begin to understand let alone combat. It was a hornet's nest of danger and we were deliberately poking it. If it had been up to me, the program would've been shut down then and there.

I remember my first impressions of the Stargate: 'So, this is the instrument of our destruction,' I thought as I looked at that giant, alien ring. Though it was not the most significant thing that happened to me that day, it was a moment that is forever seared into my memory. Later that day - at the reception held to celebrate the defeat of one of this galaxy's greatest enemies - an old man came up to me and told me my wife was with child. To this day, we have no idea how he knew. Ygraine and I had tried for years to have a child and the doctors told her it was highly unlikely she would ever be capable of conceiving and carrying to term. But we'd kept trying.

My son, Arthur, was born in time to greet the most glorious sunrise I've ever seen. Although, that is the memory of new father, holding a son he thought he'd never have; a dreary, rainy afternoon would've likely seemed grand and glorious just then.

However, the beauty of that morning had a dark lining. Due to complications after the birth, Ygraine nearly died and I could do nothing more than clutch my newborn son as doctors struggled to save her life. Afterwards, they told me that had it happened even fifty years prior, she would not have survived.

As I held my son and watched my wife sleep after her surgery, I couldn't help but wonder if the means to save her life had come through the Stargate. The next day, I looked through those Stargate reports with entirely different eyes. Instead of powerful aliens with weapons we couldn't fight against, I saw nanites that could be used to fix ailments, plants with the potential to strengthen our own crops so that they can be grown with minimal water or less mineral-rich soil, tretonin, which renders a person immune to all disease - at a price, yes, but certainly one someone dying of cancer would willingly pay. I saw planets with rich mineral deposits, lush arable land and a living history that would make any student of history salivate.

From that day on, I am proud to say, I have been able to count myself as one of the Stargate Program's strongest supporters.”

There was a pause, during which Uther King looked out at his audience, both those in front of his podium and then those watching through television cameras. A light breeze ruffled his hair, throwing wisps of grey into eyes that shone with passion despite the grief that lined his face.

“I will never regret throwing my backing behind the Stargate Program. It is our past and it is our future. To deny that is to throw blinkers over our eyes. I regret the wars that have followed since its revelation to the rest of the world. Those of us involved had known such a revelation could not possibly go smoothly. We had not anticipated nearly 20 years of war born out of fear, anger and mistrust.

When the war took my wife, I thought all hope was lost. And then, two months later, just after his sixteenth birthday, my son came to me with an air of maturity beyond his age and told me the reason we couldn't see our way out of the darkness was because we simply hadn't yet found the light. I don't know where those words came from, but there was a wisdom in them I couldn't deny. Since that day, Arthur has worked tirelessly by my side to end the wars, to find that light of his so that we may spread it to the world.

It is perhaps typical that all it took was a direct attack by the followers of the Ori to finally bring us closer to peace. I'm certain every historian in the world could've predicted that outcome. Signing my name to the proposal to hide our planet in an alternate dimension where the Ori couldn't find us was, however, the most difficult decision I have ever had to make. And, believe me, my son fought me every step of the way. I suppose, in that sense, it is rather fitting that my retirement co-insides with the shut down of the Dimensional Field. And on that note, I would like to introduce my successor, the new President of the International Alliance, my son, Arthur King.”

Enthusiastic applause greeted the end of his speech and flashes went off as Uther King smiled widely at the audience and then shook hands with the young blond man, who'd walked up to stand beside him in front of the podium, an equally wide smile on his face. They embraced briefly before standing side by side, hands still clasped as they waited for the media to finish.

The television screen switched to a car commercial.

“Well, that was a rather nice speech,” Daniel commented loudly.

“Humph, he didn't even mention us,” Jack grumbled. “There he is going on about the Stargate and he didn't even mention us.”

Daniel rolled his eyes.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Daniel sighed and began to struggle to his feet.

“Don't bother trying to get up,” Vala called out from the kitchen. “I've got it!”

“Thanks, Vala,” Daniel called back, sighing with relief as he settled back into the chair.

Then there were voices coming from the front hallway as the door opened and closed. The car commercial had been replaced by one for shatter-resistant window glass. Moments later, the living room door way was filled with a bulky silhouette carrying a large, cardboard box.

“Well, howdy folks!” said Cameron Mitchell loudly. “How y'all doin'?”

“Mitchell! When'd you get here?” Jack asked, frowning. “I didn't hear you.”

“That's because your hearing aide's trained at the T.V., Jack,” said Daniel.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Your hearing aide's trained on the – oh, you know what, nevermind.” Daniel turned to Cameron, ignoring Jack's narrow-eyed glare. “How are things at the base? All set up for tomorrow?”

Cameron shrugged.

“More or less. I'm sure someone official will want to change things at the last minute, but s'far as I'm concerned it's all done. Met Arthur King this morning. Can't believe how young the kid is, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. His aide's an interesting young man too, named Merlin of all things, can you believe it?”

Daniel started. Then he frowned.

“What a strange coincidence.”

Cameron snorted. “I know, what are the odds, right?”

“Hey, Mitchell, what's in the box?” Jack interrupted them, waving his walking stick at Cameron's burden.

“Oh, I have no idea. It was sitting next to your front door. Tag's got your name on it.”

“Ooh, a present from a secret admirer!” Jack rested his walking stick back against the armrest of his lazy-boy and then rubbed his hands together with glee. “Give it here!”

“Hopefully, it's not a scret admirer that wants you dead,” Vala commented dryly from where she was perched on the armrest of Daniel's chair, glass of wine held delicately in one hand.

Jack peeked at the tag. “Doesn't look like Apophis's handwriting, so it should be okie-dokie.”

The commercial break ended and a commentator's voice announced Arthur King. The young man cleared his throat and then looked out at the audience, smile lighting up his face. If he was at all nervous, there wasn't a trace of it in his bearing.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “As many of my generation, I barely remember peace. To me, the Stargate had always been the cause of all our despair. Only my father's conviction and my mother's gentleness kept me from outright hating it. My mother went to her grave believing that the future lay through the Stargate. And so I have dedicated my life to proving her right.”

He paused and looked over the audience.

“In just three days we celebrate the 35th anniversary of the Abydos Expedition and I hope many of you will join us for the festivities even if only through the television. I have it on good authority both former Brigadier General Jack O'Neill and Doctor Daniel Jackson will be present, both of whom, as you all know, are veterans of that expedition.

As my father mentioned, I was against hiding ourselves away inside the safety of the Dimensional Field, although I understand why it was done. We could not continue fighting a war on two fronts. Before we could be of any help to our allies, we had to sort ourselves out first. One year ago, we finally did that. The International Agreement to Peace might be relatively new, but I believe with all my heart that it is strong and will continue to be strong.

We, the people of Earth, cannot remain hidden forever. We cannot bury our heads in the sand like cowards. The Goa'uld were defeated with the help of only a fraction of our resources working in secret. This time, when the people of Earth enter the galaxy through the Stargate and through ships built on our own soil, we all enter together. United. We have abandoned our allies for far too long. The road ahead will be difficult, but we have all survived difficult times. It is now time to ensure that our children won't have to. We have no idea what will await us in the galaxy, whether the Ori have already been defeated or have managed to take over. But we will meet it with courage and the conviction that we are fighting for the most noble of all causes: the right to live in peace.

The Asgard called us the Fifth Race. It is now time for us to earn that name. We are the people of Earth: the Tauri!”

Wild applause erupted from the audience and Arthur King grinned proudly, his eyes shining, his posture determined. He looked like a man who couldn't lose.

Jack banged his walking stick into the floor enthusiastically, shouting 'here, here' over the sound of the television

When the applause died down, Arthur King's smiled turned impish.

“Before I go, I have a confession to make. As much as I'd love to take credit for that statement I made when I was 16, I'm afraid it wasn't entirely mine. After my mother died, I entered into a depression fuelled by grief. All I saw was darkness with no way out. Then a friend of mine came to me and reminded me that darkness is simply the absence of light.

He came for me in the middle of the night and drove out of the city, past all signs of life until we came to a field. I was tired, but he dragged me out of the car and into the middle of that field. It was a cloudy night and so far away from the city that I couldn't see any of its lights. The world around me was darker than I'd ever seen it. In this pitch dark world, my friend turned to me and told me to look up at the sky, to really look. I remember clearly the moment several of the clouds parted and I saw several stars shining in the sky.

'You see,' he said. 'Even in the deepest darkness, there is always a light somewhere. Sometimes, you just have to look for it in order to find it.'

That happened on my sixteenth birthday. Two days later, I went to my father and, well, the rest is history.”

Arthur King then turned to his right and stretched a hand out with a fond smile.

“I would now like to introduce this friend of mine to you. My aide, adviser and closest friend, Merlin Emrys.”

There was some applause, although nothing as enthusiastic as it had been for King's introduction. A young man with short, dark hair and large ears stepped up to the podium with an embarrassed smile. Apparently, he hadn't expected to be called forward.

Daniel frowned. “Jack, does that young man look familiar to you?”

When Jack didn't answer, he glanced to the side and then rolled his eyes when he saw his friend ignoring the television in favour of unwrapping the mystery box that had been left on his doorstep.

“Um, hello,” Merlin Emrys began. “I, uh, wasn't exactly expecting to be up here, so I've hardly got anything prepared. Which you're all probably very happy to hear.”

Here was some laughter.

“So yeah, I've known Arthur pretty much all my life and, like him, I believe strongly that the Stargate is our future. Doctor Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill and the late Doctor Colonel Samantha Carter are only a few of those men and women who helped pave the path towards that future and now it's sort of up to the rest of us really to make what we can of it. To make sure their sacrifices weren't completely useless.”

He looked thoughtful for a few moments.

“As for the light in the darkness... well...” He looked directly at the camera, his eyes almostly unnaturally piercing. “The light to lead the path through the darkness will shine when Kilgarrah once more flies. Years ago, a promise was given. Now it is time for it to be fulfilled.”

He bowed and stepped away from the microphone. Arthur King seemed a bit perplexed, but didn't hesitate to take over and announce the next speaker.

Suddenly, Jack make a surprised exclamation. Daniel looked over and froze, staring at the the object Jack held in his hand.

It was a hat. A giant purple and red velvet jester's hat with delicate, golden bells dangling off the end of each of its eight bent points,which were coming out of a golden crown. The front of the crown had the words 'King of Fools' engraved on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Timeline:** To build this part of the story, I've used the Stargate timeline as set on the website: “Arduinna's Stargate: SG-1 Handbook” (which, if you haven't seen it yet, is an absolutely amazing resource for any _Stargate: SG1_ fanfic writer for anything up to season 9). Based on that, I give you the following timeline to make sure we're all on the same page:
> 
> late 1995 – Abydos Mission  
> somewhere 2008/9 – Stargate program goes public  
> 2010 – unrest/war breaks out  
> somewhere around 2020/1 – Ori attack Earth  
> 2022 – Dimensional Field activated  
> 2030 – present day
> 
> Jack O'Neill: born 1957, currently 73 years old  
> Daniel Jackson: born 1964, currently 66 years old  
> Arthur King: born 2004/5, currently 25 years old  
> Merlin Emrys: born in a time of magic, currently A LOT of years old
> 
>  **Dimensional Field -** In season 10 episode 13 “The Road Not Taken”, Carter manages to accidentally shift into an alternate dimension, where she develops a way to expand Merlin's (Ancient Merlin, not our Merlin) dimensional phase-shift cloak to encompass the entire planet in order to hide it from the Ori. As far as I'm concerned it would make perfect sense for her to suggest and then work on developing something similar for her own universe once she returned to it that could be used as a contingency plan if the worst should happen. Which, in this story's alternate timeline, it did.
> 
>  **Vala and Daniel –** I've purposefully not made it entirely clear what their relationship is. Close friends, married, 'shacked up'? I'll leave it entirely up to you guys how you want to read that. SG1's last episode clearly indicated that the potential for something romantic between these two is possible. However, they were also kind of stuck together in a way they wouldn't have been once things got reset, so that makes it a whole different playing field.


	25. The Promise

“ _The light to lead the path through the darkness will shine when Kilgharrah once more flies. Years ago, a promise was given. Now it is time for it to be fulfilled.”_

 

Ben Carr stared at the television screen, stunned. When the bell rang, he barely had the presence of mind to dismiss his class and he could feel the odd looks his students gave him as they left, but he couldn't help it.

Kilgharrah. A promise given.

It took a few minutes for the shock to wear off, for his lips to slowly spread into a wide grin. He couldn't believe it! Then he was dashing through the high school hallways, oblivious to the bewildered looks from students and teachers alike. He could barely feel the pain in his hip from where he'd been injured during a bombing at age 19 – he'd pay for that later no doubt, but right now he had to hurry. Lunch break was only an hour long.

He roared out of the school parking lot and raced home as fast as he could. Adrenaline made his hip obey him as he stormed through his small house and unlocked the safe behind the desk. He pulled out the small box inside and then paused to stare at it reverently for a few moments. His wife didn't understand why the ornament inside was so important to him.

He'd tell her. When he got home from work today he'd tell her and his little girl.

He raced back to the school, arriving just as the bell was ringing the end of lunch break and was sweating profusely by the time he sprinted into the classroom. The students looked at him like he'd just told them he was Tinkerbell's cousin. He suddenly realized he was still grinning madly.

Oh well, his students already probably thought he was a lunatic for enjoying history so much.

“Good afternoon, class,” he said. “You can all put away your books. Won't be needing those for this class.”

While the grade eleven class exchanged surprised looks before slowly slipping their things back into their bags, he turned off the television he'd forgotten to switch off. Then he opened the box in his hands. Inside, the green and gold-painted wooden dragon figurine was exactly the same as he remembered it. He sat down onto the edge of his desk. When he looked back up, the class was looking back at him expectantly.

“Well, a lot happened this morning,” he began. “And I'm sure many of you have questions about what it all means and some of you are probably worried about what'll happen next.” He paused to think. “I remember the moment when I first heard about the Stargate. Can you imagine finding out that right here, in your hometown, was a base that travelled to other planets and battled aliens on a regular basis? My parents didn't agree with me, of course, but I thought it was cool. Almost as cool as what happened to me the year I spent Christmas in the hospital.”

His students still looked sceptical about his sanity, but at least they were mostly listening – well he could see a few phones out, but he was sure that would change.

“There was an old man, who claimed to be a powerful sorcerer. He called himself Dragoon the Great and on Christmas Eve that year, he told us all a story.”

Ben took the dragon out of its box and held it up for his class to see.

“This is the main character of that story. His name... is Kilgharrah.” He grinned at the number of heads that snapped up at the name. “That Christmas Eve, we all promised the old sorcerer that when the time came we'd pass on the story he told us. So here it goes: in a land of myth and a time of magic...”

 

* * *

 

Carly Lee had been dragged out of her office by her co-workers in order to watch the broadcast.

It wasn't that she didn't understand the significance of the occasion or that she didn't care for the historical occurrence. But getting production lines up and running again wasn't exactly an easy task. Now that the war was officially over, people were going to want things again. Not that they didn't want them before, but it was difficult to justify spending a lot of money on something unnecessary when your home was in danger of being blown up on barely a moment's notice. Not to mention that with factories being bombed and travel hindered, most people were jobless and therefore didn't have the money to spend on luxuries in the first place.

When the Peace Agreement had finally been signed, people had been cautious. True, it was the first actual written peace treaty since the wars began, but there'd been talk of peace before. Now, nearly a year later with not a shot fired on any side, hope was starting to take seed in everyone's hearts.

After 20 years of surviving, perhaps people could start to live again.

She had to hand it to both King men, they certainly knew how to stir up a crowd. Most of Uther King's speech was history; it wasn't as though this was the first time he'd told people why he decided to support the Stargate Program back when it was still a secret. However, she hadn't realized just how significant his son's role had been in bringing about peace.

As she watched Arthur King speak, she couldn't help but think that the light he'd been searching for had already been found. In his passionate eyes and in his confident smile, she could see the future.

Then his friend and adviser spoke and Carly's body froze, breath forgotten.

Kilgharrah.

Yes, of course she remembered. How could she have forgotten?

The television cut to a commercial break and Carly left to find her boss. The tall, thin man was at his desk, watching the broadcast on the screen in his office. “Mr. Davies?” she said after knocking on his open door. He motioned her inside. “I'm so sorry, but something's just come up and I'm afraid I need to take the afternoon off.”

“Oh, well, we're actually a bit ahead of schedule thanks to your hard work, so sure, go ahead.” Then he gave her a mock-glare. “Just don't make a habit of it.”

She smiled at him. “Of course not, sir. Thank you.”

As she was leaving, she overheard her co-workers wondering out loud about this mysterious Kilgharrah. She couldn't help but smile.

The first thing she did when she got home was text both her sons.

_Took afternoon off. Am baking cookies. Bring your friends over after school._

Then she changed out of her suit and into something more baking-appropriate, scoured her cabinets for ingredients, fired up the oven and got mixing.

She was placing the last plate of cookies onto the dinning room table when she heard the front door slam open followed by a cacophony of voices calling out greetings. She called back with a smile and went to retrieve milk and juice out of the fridge.

“Holy crap, mom, just how many friends do you think we have?!” she heard Duncan, her oldest, exclaim.

“Wow, I don't think I've ever seen this many cookies in one place, like, ever!” one of her youngest son's friends echoed.

She rolled her eyes and walked into the dinning room. She looked over the table again at the piles upon piles of cookies. Okay, so maybe she'd gone a little bit overboard.

“Are those complaints I hear in here?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope.”

“No way.”

“Definitely not.”

“Well then pull up some chairs and dig in. I've got milk and juice here and there's some pop in the fridge.”

Within seconds the beautiful display on the table was being attacked by a herd of teenagers (with the exception of a few of the youngest in her younger son's group, who were still only soon-to-be teenagers). Only her youngest son, Travis, was standing, slowly chewing on his cookie as he stood in front of the china cabinet looking up at it thoughtfully. Carly smiled to herself. Of the two boys, Travis was the more observant one.

“Mom, why is the Dragon down here?” Travis finally asked.

Carly walked over to him and took it down, cradling it gently as she did. She looked down at her son and ran a hand through his hair.

“You know how I've told you there was a reason why Dragon was so special to me?” Her son nodded. “And that one day, I'd tell you that story?” Another nod, this time accompanied with eyes that were beginning to sparkle with excitement. “Well then why don't you go sit down and I'll tell you now.”

Travis grinned and ran to the empty chair waiting for him. Carly turned to the rest of them.

“So, did you all watch the broadcast today in class?” she asked.

The official announcement of the shut down of the Dimensional Field and the inauguration of the new president of the International Alliance was such a historic event, she couldn't imagine the schools not showing it – or at least part of it.

“Yeah, we did,” Duncan agreed with a grin. “Interrupted math class: it was great.” Then he paused, looking thoughtful. “You know, I think I kinda like that Arthur King. He's like, I don't know...”

“He's like a knight in shining armour,” the girl sitting next to him sighed dreamily.

Duncan pulled a face.

“Forget Arthur King, what about that Merlin guy!” one of the younger boys exclaimed excitedly

“I wonder if Merlin's even his real name?” said another girl at the table. “I mean Merlin and Arthur, really? How weird is that?”

“It's awesome is what it is!” Travis exclaimed excitedly. “I heard the teachers talking at lunch, they have no idea what he meant with the whole light and flying thing.”

Carly grinned. Oh, she'd be the best mother ever after this. Then she cleared her throat and held out the wooden dragon with both hands.

“In that case, allow me to introduce you: this is Kilgharrah,” she said. That got the herd's attention. She giggled. “Of course, this isn't the real Kilgharrah. The real Kilgharrah's bigger than a house.”

“Duncan, Travis, you've both heard that I lived in Colorado Springs when I was little.” Both boys nodded. “And that, when I was a little girl, I had a heart murmur and had to have surgery for it. I was in the hospital over Christmas that year.”

More nods.

“Well, while I was in the hospital, there was this old man who used to come 'round once a week dressed as a sorcerer. He called himself Dragoon the Great. On Christmas Eve he came to our party dressed in a very lovely red, fur-lined cloak with a golden dragon on the back and he gave us all these dragon figures. Then, he told us a story and made us all promise to remember it and, when the time came, to tell it to others.”

She paused and looked at the silent, wide-eyed teenagers. Too old to believe in magic on their own, but not too old to have had life drain away their imaginations. She stepped forward and placed the dragon down onto the table.

“In a land of myth and a time of magic...”

 

* * *

 

Ashley Warrington – known as Lady Ash to her fans – was in the middle of applying lipstick when she heard the words over the state-of-the-art speaker system of her limo. She froze, her lips only half-done, and looked at the small, jewelled flatscreen hanging from the roof. She stared at the screen, recognizing neither one of the men in view.

Kilgharrah.

It was a familiar name, a whisper of an almost-forgotten memory of childhood. She'd promised once, yes, she had.

With flip of her wrist, she finished applying her lipstick and clicked her compact shut, sliding both items into her pink satin purse. Then she reached for the button to the intercom.

“Henry, change of plans,” she said.

“Yes, Ms. Warrington?”

“Take me to the nearest park. I mean, this is New York. Central Park might be a mess of craters, but there's still got to be a couple dozen parks somewhere in the neighbourhood. And not some old geezer park, a children's park. It's a gorgeous sunny day, there should be plenty of kids around.”

“A park? Are you-”

“Yep, totally. Don't worry about the details, just get me there.”

“Alright then, nearest park it is.”

“Thanks Henry.”

She switched off the intercom and scooted over to the other side of the seat, where she'd flung her white Dior gym bag. It took a few minutes of rooting haphazardly through its contents before she found what she was looking for. With a cry of joy, she took out a small item wrapped in blue velvet and tied with a gold string. Reverently, she placed it in her lap and then unwrapped the bundle.

Blue velvet was unfolded to reveal a small green and gold painted wooden dragon ornament. It was a little beaten up from having been handled by a child years ago and if one looked closely then they would notice a few places where scratches had been painted over, but the toy was obviously well-cared-for.

Ashley smiled fondly at the little dragon in her hands.

“Don't worry Dragoon the Great, I always keep my promises,” she whispered.

 

* * *

 

Carolyn Bennet was barely awake. It didn't matter that it was the middle of the afternoon. Such was the life of a post-graduate student: so much to do, not enough time for sleep. Normally, she'd be napping right now, having just gotten home from her morning of tutoring work, before she sat down to work on her thesis again.

Stupid time difference. Why the bloody hell had they decided to hold this in bloody America anyway?! She, of course, knew the answer: that was where the Dimensional Field Generator was.

She yawned loudly in the break between Uther King's speech and his son's. She heard the door to their flat open and then bang shut. Moments later, her flatmate Beth entered the kitchen, threw her bag onto the floor by the door and headed directly for the coffeepot.

She joined Carolyn at the table with a groan of appreciation at the caffienated beverage in her hands. With the war over and supply lines strengthening, it was finally possible to attain coffee regularly without paying blackmarket prices for it.

“I can't believe you're actually awake to watch this,” her flatmate said. “Your naptime's practically sacred.”

Carolyn shrugged. “Can't 'elp it, I'm a political science major. 'Sides, it's worth staying up to watch Arthur King.”

“Mmm, won't argue with you there, luv.”

Arthur King didn't disappoint either. Carolyn smiled as he bullied his aide to the podium to give him due credit – it made Carolyn like him that little bit more. Besides, Merlin Emrys was a name that got mentioned every now and then in conjunction with Arthur King, but this was the first time someone had managed to drag the young man out into the spotlight.

Then Emrys spoke and his words pulled Carolyn into wide awake with the abruptness of a bomb going off. Her coffee cup slipped from her hands, crashing onto the linoleum floor. She didn't notice.

Kilgharrah.

No way, just no bloody way. It wasn't possible.

“Carolyn, what's wrong?!” Beth exclaimed in alarm. “Are you alright?”

Carolyn slowly turned to her with wide eyes. “Kilgharrah, h-he said Kilgharrah, didn't he?”

Her flatmate frowned. “Yeah, he did. Have no idea what it means, tho'.”

A door was flung open at the far end of the flat.

“Oi, everything alright down there?” their third called down the stairwell.

“I don't know, Carolyn looks like she's just seen a ghost!”

Moments later, there were two worried faces looking down at her. Carolyn took a deep breath. Then she calmly got up and headed into the next room. There, on the mantle, sat a lonely wooden dragon toy. She touched it, as though to assure herself it was real.

“Carolyn?”

“I got this dragon from my grandmother just before she died, who'd gotten it from her mother, who'd gotten it from a man in an air raid during the second world war.”

She didn't look up from the dragon as she spoke, trying to remember the story she'd heard so long ago.

“There were several children there at the shelter and all of them were scared. Then this man came up to them and told them not to be afraid, that they'd be safe down there in the shelter. 'e had this big, old sack with 'im and he reached in and gave each of them a candy and then this toy. Said it was a good luck charm. And then he told them a story, made them promise they'd remember it, so that it could be passed on when the time came. My grandmother told me her mother had been convinced the story was important and made 'er promise that if the time for the story to be spread didn't come in her lifetime, to tell it to her children so that someone would always know it.”

Carolyn picked up the dragon and turned to her flatmates.

“This dragon... it was always just a family keepsake, a memory of my grandmother. A memory with a story. I- I didn't ever think it would be important.”

“What are you talking about?” one of them finally asked.

“This dragon, you see, 'is name's Kilgharrah.”

Beth gasped. Their flatmate looked between them, confused.

“Oi, whay'd I miss?”

“Everything, apparently,” Beth answered, stunned. Then she grabbed the other girl's hand and declared. “Come on, we'd best get you up to speed and then Carolyn can tell us this all-important story of 'ers.”

Carolyn smiled as they left. A few moments later, she followed them into the kitchen, where Beth was already tinkering with the television to find the correct spot on the saved footage.

 

* * *

 

Hiro looked at the dragon in his hands. It had once been green and gold. Now the green was much faded and pieces of the gold had chipped away. There was also a dent on one side, where it had falled over during a particularly fierce storm.

Kilgharrah.

To hear that name spoken aloud, outside of his father's workshop, was... monumental. It undoubtedly meant that the time had finally come. The story would have to be told, so that the dragon could finally roar.

Hiro chuckled to himself. He'd always treasured this dragon as a part of the inheritance of his father's workshop, which had belonged to his father before him and so on. For centuries, his family had forged swords for samurai until they had turned to kitchen knives. He'd never thought of it as anything more than just a story.

The story was that four hundred years ago a fierce storm had blown in from the sea. The swordmaker's mother had been out when it started and on her way home, she ran into a man – a westerner - and offered him shelter. The story described him as a nice, polite man with a wide smile and sad eyes. They'd given him food and after he'd eaten, he'd reached into his travelling pack and taken out a painted wooden dragon. He said, that where he came from it was customary for the guest to show appreciation for his host's hospitality by providing them with entertainment. Alas, the stranger could neither sing, nor dance, so instead, he told them a story. The story of the dragon Kilgharrah and of the sword he helped forge – an appropriate story for a swordsmith's house.

Hiro looked out the window. It was dark now, too late to go bothering people with an old story. No, the story had been waiting centuries to be told, it could wait until morning.

 

* * *

 

Lyon Grant stared at the screen in front of him. It mocked him. Ever since watching the rerun of the International Alliance presidential handover broadcast, he'd felt restless, frustrated. He gripped the armrests of his wheelchair. Not since the first few months had his disability felt so crippling.

He glanced to his closet. The door was slid open a crack and he could just barely see his old army jacket hanging on the hanger, a hint of gold where he knew a golden dragon decorated the right sleeve. He'd once been one of the best communications specialists in the field: the Golden Dragon they'd called him.

Then he'd been taken out of the field permanently.

He didn't even have that dragon anymore. He'd given it to his daughter just before shipping out: asked her to keep it safe for him, told her he'd be back for it. Well, he had gone back for it, but she hadn't been there. The whole neighbourhood had been flattened by an explosion.

He still hoped against hope that his wife had somehow managed to get them out before the missiles had hit, but it was a long shot at best.

He'd left Colorado Springs and started driving towards Carson City, Nevada, where his wife's family lived. However, passing through Utah, he'd overheard in a diner about the problems they were having with communications. Huh, he'd thought, that was something he could help with.

So he'd headed to Salt Lake City, where they'd welcomed him with open arms. Too many resources had been going to the war effort and anyone with skills was in demand. For eight years now, he'd worked tirelessly to keep radio and telephone communications open and the internet up and operational.

Being able to communicate kept people from panicking. It helped people know what was going on. Maybe if the people at the Stargate Program had done that sooner, the entire war could've been averted. Or maybe it had been inevitable. Human beings were sort of stupid that way.

He had eventually managed to get ahold of his in-laws. They hadn't heard from their daughter. Lyon later heard on the communications grapevine that the SGC had evacuated hundreds of people out of Colorado Springs through the Stargate. It had been done in such a rush, though, that they had no records of who had gone. So, Lyon had hope.

He also had a computer and one of the best internet connections in the country. It somehow felt wrong, telling Kilgharrah's story in such an impersonal way, but it was the best way to the story out to the world.

He _had_ made a promise all those years ago, afterall.

He hit 'enter'.

 

* * *

 

General Cameron Mitchell only barely managed to hear the doorbell over all the noise in the living room.

With the television still on in the background, three grown men and Vala arguing loud enough to be heard by the oldest of their group (although at least Vala had finally grown annoyed enough to march over and forcibly switch his hearing aides from the 'T.V. focus' setting to 'group focus') and Jack's occasional stick-pounding, the room was _loud_.

As the only one in the room to have evidently heard the doorbell, Cameron left the room to answer it.

Turned out, the other side of the door wasn't any quieter as it opened to reveal Cassie and her entire brood – including the 18-month-old grandson, who'd been named Jack on account of his unparallelled lung capacity. Jack didn't care as Cassie had given birth to all girls and thus he was simply tickled pink that there was finally a little air force colonel-in-training named after him running about.

“Hi, Cameron!” Cassie said with a tired smiled.

“Well, hello there, Doctor Cassandra Fraiser,” Cameron answered with a wide grin. Then he winked. “You know, if you use the element of surprise y'all might actually manage to interrupt their argument for long enough to get in a greeting.”

Cassie rolled her eyes as she led the procession into the front lobby. They all greeted Cameron, before calling out greetings to the living room as they shrugged off their coats and shoes. Their greetings were returned and in mere seconds, Vala appeared in the doorway.

“Daniel, don't be such a pain the mikita!” she called behind her. “With your leg it'll take you ten minutes just to get out of that chair and then another ten to cross the room! Oh don't glower at me; it's your own fault for overdoing it yesterday. And the day before. And, oh, the day before that too!”

Cassie shook her head with a fond smile. When Vala finally reached her through the throng of daughters, their partners and one child, the two women exchanged conspiratorial smiles and then embraced.

“So, what is it that you guys were arguing about so ferociously when we got here?” Cassie asked. “We could hear you all the way outside.”

“Did you listen to the International Alliance Presidential switcharoo broadcast in the car?” Cameron asked.

Cassie gave him a look.

“Cameron, I was driving a car with two teenagers, two adults and one 18-month-old: trust me, I have absolutely no idea what was being broadcast on the radio or if the radio was even on in the first place. There were several moments, in fact, where I was feeling quite envious of my husband who got to work for one more day and then fly out here on his own tomorrow.”

Vala laughed.

“You're an incredibly patient woman, Cassandra Fraiser,” she said. “I'd have drowned the noisy brats by now.”

“No you wouldn't have, Vala,” said Cameron with a roll of his eyes.

“No, you're right, I wouldn't have.” Vala turned to head on back into the living room. “Zats are so much better for that sort of thing. No evidence left to clean up.”

Cassie stopped short at the entrance to the living room and just stared at the ridiculous hat on Jack's head proudly proclaiming him the King of Fools. “Nice hat, uncle Jack,” she said.

Jack smiled widely at her. “It's from a secret admirer,” he said. “Daniel's jealous that he didn't get one. Now come on and give this old man a hug.”

Cassie laughed and bent over to hug her uncle.

“You know, I don't think jealously is quite the word I'd use to describe what I'm feeling towards that hat,” Daniel said from his chair on the other side of the room.

“Nah, you're just jealous,” said Jack as Cassie pulled away. “And annoyed, 'cause for once you don't know something.”

Daniel threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Jack, I've never claimed to know everything!”

“Doesn't matter. You can't deny that it's driving you absolutely nutso not being able to figure out what this Kilgharrah thing is.”

Daniel made a face, but didn't deny the accusation.

“Kilgharrah...” Cassie said softly. “Oh wow, now there's a name I haven't heard in a long time.”

From his place beside her, Cameron heard the words. His eyes bulged out and his head snapped around to look at her.

“Woah, hang on there, Cassie,” he exclaimed. “You've heard of this Kilgharrah thing?!”

Cassie looked up at him and blinked. Then she realized the room had gone silent. She looked around, a bit perturbed at suddenly being the centre of such focused attention. She raised her eyebrows and laughed.

“It's not really a 'what so much as a 'who',” she said with a grin. “And of course I've heard of him. Dragoon the Great told that story years ago to the children at the hospital's Christmas Eve party.”

Jack gaped. “Dragoon told the story?!”

Cameron frowned. “Who's Dragoon the Great? Other than a guy with really lame naming skills.”

“He was Doctor Hunithson's alter ego,” Daniel answered.

“Oooh, was he the old man that scared all those big, burly marines?” Vala asked, her eyes suddenly lighting up with excitement.

“Yeah, that's him.”

Cassie laughed. “That really doesn't surprise me. But the children loved him. Especially after that Christmas... they just seemed to worship the ground he walked on.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “And since you're wondering, Kilgharrah's a dragon. And not just any dragon, he's the dragon whose flames forged Excalibur.”

“Excalibur?” Jack exclaimed. “As in the Sword in the Stone?”

“Actually, Jack, in many versions of the Arthurian legends, the Sword in the Stone and Excalibur are two separate swords,” Daniel pointed out.

Jack glared at him.

“You mean like the sword stuck inside a mound of concrete that no one had been able to budge no matter what they tried until we moved the Stargate and then the next morning the guards found it sitting next to the Stargate's new location from where it couldn't be budged _again_?” Cameron asked.

Daniel and Jack exchanged looks.

“You know,” Max, Cassie's middle daughter's boyfriend, said. “Everyone's already been saying what a weird co-incidence it is that the new president's name is Arthur King and his advisor's name is Merlin Emrys.”

For several moments, the room was completely silent.

“So was Doctor Hunithson,” Daniel finally spoke.

Cassie gasped.

“That's right!” she said. “I knew him mostly as Dragoon the Great, so I'd completely forgotten. But his name was Merlin too, wasn't it?”

“Vala,” said Daniel. “You've got the remote there. I know we recorded the live broadcast. Could you find a shot of Merlin Emrys?”

Vala looked confused, but she nodded and did as asked. She froze the image on the first clear shot of him. Jack and Daniel stared at it.

“Holy Hannah,” Jack said softly.


	26. The Warlock

Deep within the depths of Cheyenne Mountain, General Cameron Mitchell stood behind a plexiglass wall, looking down on the people scuttling about – scientists preforming last-minute diagnostics and making sure all the right wires were crossed the right way. He felt a pang in his heart at the memory of the blonde-haired woman who wasn't there. And Sam Carter would've found a way to be there, retirement bedamned. Hell, she probably would've never left.

The door to the left of him opened and he braced himself for the intrusion. Time to play the diplomat, he thought wryly. He smiled when he turned to greet the witnesses.

“Why good morning,” he said. “At least I'm assuming it's still morning – it's a bit difficult to tell down here.”

“Don't worry, it's still morning,” Arthur King replied with a laugh. He shook Cameron's hand heartily. “I trust everything's going to schedule...”

He looked down at the scientists warily. Cameron laughed at the expression.

“Despite appearances, I'm told it is. You wouldn't think you'd need this many scientists to pull a plug... but apparently you do.” He shook his head. “Course I could swear there weren't this many here when they turned the blasted contraption on.”

King snorted.   “Well, I suppose we've put our lives in their hands this long...”

Then they were then joined by other members of the world leadership and approached for statements by the reporters that were escorted in minutes later. Throughout everything, Cameron kept an eye on Arthur King - the conversation with his former teammates still fresh in his mind. But no matter how he looked, all he saw was a passionate young man with some very real leadership talent.

Then it occurred to him to look for Merlin Emrys only to realize with some degree of surprise that Arthur King's aide had been standing just a step beside the International Alliance president the whole time. He must've felt Cameron's eyes on him, because he turned to look directly at him. He inclined his head and smiled. Cameron smiled back before casually winding his way to his side.

“Don't reckon we've been introduced yet,” he said before sticking his hand out to be shaken. “General Cameron Mitchell.”

Merlin Emrys raised an eyebrow in amusement but took the offered hand and shook it firmly. “I'm Merlin Emrys, but please call me Merlin,” he said. “It's an honour to meet you, General.”

“You too.” Cameron paused for a moment and scanned the room, wondering why the hell none of the reporters were accosting Merlin after his cryptic statement the day before.

“So... Kilgharrah's a dragon...” he said.

“A very old and powerful one,” Merlin added.

“Right, of course. And he forged Excalibur too.”

“Well, technically he only tempered the steel as the sword had already been forged by Camelot's best blacksmith.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. So... how exactly is a dragon supposed to help us defeat the Ori?”

“Assuming they're still a threat.”

“Assuming they're still a threat.” Mitchell snorted. “Let's face it though, we could never be that lucky. Also, I sort of hope they still are, 'cause otherwise the Jaffa'll never let us hear the end of it.”

Merlin chuckled.

“General Mitchell you apparently weren't paying close enough attention,” he said as he looked at Cameron with amusement. “It's the light that's important, not the dragon. Kilgharrah's flight is only important for what it represents.”

Cameron stared at Merlin and then shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, 'fraid you lost me there.”

“Tell me, general, do you believe in magic?”

“Magic?” Cameron's eyebrows both shot to the top of his head. “Of course not!”

Merlin nodded, clearly having expected that answer. “Most people don't,” he said. “Of course, 35 years ago, most people didn't believe the Egyptian gods were aliens. Now, if you will excuse me, Leon's trying to get my attention.”

Cameron watched, feeling just a bit stunned as Merlin weaved his way towards the edge of the crowd where a tall man with a thick head of brown curls stood speaking into a phone. They spoke briefly and then Merlin made his way back to Arthur's side to whisper something into his ear. Cameron was attempting to read their lips when an airman came to let him know the scientists had finally declared themselves ready to deactivate the Dimensional Field.

Turning off the device was rather anticlimactic in the end.

One scientist flicked a switch, another turned a lever and two more removed the electrical connecters from its surface. Then they checked energy readings and declared it shut off.

Nothing happened. Which was, of course, a good thing because it meant there weren't any Ori ships hovering nearby waiting for the Earth to finally un-hide itself.

“Well, that's phase one complete,” said Cameron. He saw many relieved faces around the room and in the corner Brigadier General Lovejoy picked up the phone to call the Nevada and Chinese bases to let them know to start their final preparations. “Now, if you'll follow me, let's head on down to the control room to watch phase two.”

Phase two was logistically the more difficult one to implement.

It involved launching four ships into orbit and then manuevering them into strategic positions within the Solar System in case of immediate attack. Each ship also carried a beacon, which upon arriving into position, would be launched into deep space. The beacons were to serve as an early warning system of approaching Ori ships.

The countdown was synchronized with two ships launching out of Nevada and two ships out of Qinghai, China. There were ten more already under construction and five more, which were scheduled to be ready to launch in exactly two weeks.

After a few last-minute protesters had been evacuated from the premises in Nevada and all systems were quadruple-checked, countdown control was handed over to the SGC. Sergant Charlie Ferretti read the time loudly into the microphone, ignoring all the voice recorders and microphones pointed in his direction. His voice was steady and his face looked calm and professional, but Cameron smirked when he noticed the young man's left leg bouncing a gallop.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Lift-off.” A pause. “Please confirm. I repeat, please confirm lift-off.”

They could see all four ships on the monitors along the far side of the room. They watched the engines fire up and then the blast that meant they'd finally taken off. Moments later, voices sounded over the speakers.

“Nevada here, confirming lift-off one and two.”

“Qinghai confirming lift-off three and four.”

Then they all watched as the satellites in orbit captured the treks of the four ships. Sargent Ferretti read out the ships' names as they achieved orbit and moved into position. Then he radioed the ships directly.

“This is Stargate Command, please confirm when in position. I repeat, this is the SGC, please confirm when in position.”

They waited a few more minutes. Finally, a signal came through.

“Ehem, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the-”

Arthur growled and strode up to Ferretti, snatching the radio out of his hand.

“Gwaine!” he barked into it. “This is not the time for jokes!”

Laughter sounded through the radio.

“Lighten up, Princess. What did you expect when you gave me a ship named Enterprise? I had to do it at least once.”

“First of all, _Captain_ Noble, _I_ didn't give you anything. Some apparently very confused people in the admiralty did that – people who I'm sure are very busy regretting that decision at this very moment. If it were up to me, you'd currently be sitting in front of a paper cut-out and talking into a plastic radio!”

“Oh no doubt.” The wide grin was audible in the man's voice. Cameron shook his head and chuckled. If Jack was paying attention to the television right now, he was probably loving every second. “Well fine then, this is Captain Gwaine Noble of the Enterprise confirming position. There, that boring enough for you?”

“Yes, thank you. Position confirmed.”

The other three ships confirmed their positions shortly afterwards (although the captain of the Nonoma sounded like he was three breaths away from bursting into laughter). And then half an hour later, they all confirmed the launch of their beacons.

When the beacons entered into position, a cheer rang up throughout the control room.

“General Mitchell,” Arthur King called with a wide grin. “Send out the sub-space messages to our allies.”

Cameron nodded and smiled. “Happy to do so, sir,” he said.

He gave the order and ten minutes later, five messages were sent, letting their allies know that Earth was back.

 

* * *

 

“Mummy, mummy, come outside!”

Eve looked up from the cookbook she was pouring through. The first thing she noticed was the back door – it was wide open. Alarmed, she jumped out of her chair and ran out. How had that child managed to get it open?! She never kept it unlocked.

Eve needn't have worried of course, the little dark-haired girl was standing in the middle of the small garden in the back. Eve paused, looking around. Was it her imagination, or did the garden somehow look more vibrant than usual?

“Nissa, dear, you know you're not supposed to come outside without me,” said Eve with a sigh.

“But Mummy, the war is over, you said so,” the little girl said, turning around to look at Eve with bright, innocent eyes.

“Yes, but that doesn't mean it's safe just yet, luv.”

Eve suppressed another sigh. She sometimes wondered if she'd be this worried if the little girl had been her own flesh and blood instead of an orphan she found wandering the streets with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a golden chain around her neck, a small 'N' charm dangling off it.

“But Mummy, can't you hear it?” Nissa grinned widely, the gaps in her teeth making her look a bit goofy. She spread her arms out and spun around. “The flowers are singing! Something wonderful is going happen!”

Eve stared at the girl. Then she smiled and shook her head before walking up to her. The girl was lovely, but undeniably odd.

“It is, is it?” she asked.

“Yes!” Nissa stopped spinning and looked up at Eve. “Mr. Patterson down the road told me and the others a story yesterday! About a dragon named Kilgharrah who breathed fire on a sword and made it into Excalibur! Do you know what Excalibur is, Mummy?”

Eve laughed and knelt down to Nissa's height. “Of course I've heard of Excalibur. It's King Arthur's sword. Did you know that rumour has it, it's at the Stargate?”

Nissa nodded vigorously. Then she suddenly paused and was completely still for a few moments, a small confused frown on her face.

“Nissa...?”

The little girl gasped. “There's something... Mummy, something's coming!”

The bushes at the end of the garden rustled. Eve froze and reached out to grab Nissa, but the little girl was already running towards the gate.

“Nissa!”

Horrified, Eve ran after the child. The gate was thrown open and Nissa slipped out of the garden. Eve heard her squeal and grabbed the heavy shovel leaning up against the old apple tree as she passed. She ran out onto the street and turned, shovel ready to defend her little girl.

And froze, her eyes widening even as her lips fell apart in amazement. The shovel fell out of her hands.

Stunned beyond reason, Eve watched as the little girl approached the blindingly white creature munching on their lilac bushes until she was close enough to tentatively touch it.

“Ms. Roland, are you two al-” she heard her neighbour, Steven Cross, begin before he too was stunned into silence. “Flaming hell.”

As Nissa continued to pet it, the unicorn stopped its munching to turn to look at her curiously. It didn't seem concerned or irritated and nuzzled the little girl, making her giggle with delight. Awed, she petted its forehead, running her small hand up the horn.

There was another gasp from the elderly widow from across the lane, who had hobbled up to see what was going on.

“The girl has a rare gift,” an unfamiliar voice broke the silence.

Eve tore her gaze away to look to the newcomer. A tall, elderly man stood to the side of the lane. He wore a long white cloak and held a tall wooden walking stick with a gnarled end. Eve wondered how she'd missed seeing him when she'd first run out.

“Who are you?” Eve asked, nearly gasping as she met his eyes. They looked ancient in a way she couldn't have described if she'd tried.

“My name is Anhora.”

“Mister Anhora,” Nissa said. “Do you know when Kilgharrah will fly?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Kilgharra? Why, I believe... yes, there he goes now.”

The man looked up into the sky and pointed towards the east. They all followed his gaze. There was nothing there at first but blue sky and white clouds. Then they saw it: a speck moving in the distance, approaching ever closer. They'd all seen plenty of aircraft: planes and X-ships alike. This had wings. And they were flapping.

“Dear God,” Steven said. Suddenly, she heard him running to his house. “Analaise, drop everything right now! Derek, William, kids, all of you get out here! Quick, come and see!

Nissa came to stand next to Eve as they stood silently watching as the dragon flew by.

 

 

* * *

 

The morning of the anniversary of the Abydos Expedition began with a beautiful display of colour. Which Merlin had absolutely nothing to do with. Nope, nothing at all... well, maybe a little bit... But he certainly had nothing to do with the beautiful sunny, cloudless sky... mostly.

He could feel anticipation in the air as the entire planet held its breath.

From his vantage point inside the base's watch tower, he could see down onto the paved area being set up for the celebrations. He could also just barely make out the corner of the hanger that currently housed the Stargate. Its large doors had been fully opened to allow the gathering crowd a clear view of it.

Military forces from around the world had sent their representatives alongside politicians and religious leaders. But what really made Merlin smile were the ordinary citizens passing through the tight security by the dozens. He could make out what looked like classes of students – high school age, he thought – and parents with children. There was also a throng of walkers shuffling their way towards the seating area.

There were, of course, also protestors with large elaborate placards in front of the base. Arthur and Uther both had been rather annoyed, but Merlin and Gwen convinced them to let them be. The Stargate had been the cause of much fear and that fear would not disappear overnight no matter what they wished.

Merlin had told Arthur to simply prove them wrong.

“Merlin?” a voice came from behind him. Merlin turned to Lance with a warm smile. “Brigadier General O'Neill and Doctor Jackson have just arrived.”

Merlin grinned.

“Oh good, I'm looking forward to seeing them again!”

Lance frowned. “Again? I wasn't aware you'd met them before.”

“Oh, it was a long, long time ago. Another lifetime ago, you could say.”

“I see...”

He didn't and Merlin nearly sighed. The hollow pang in his heart had been a constant friend of his for the past 20 years and most of the time he managed to ignore it, but there were times when it made itself known with the sharpness of a fine blade. Lance Grey was a good man, a good friend, but he wasn't Lancelot. Yet. At least Merlin hoped so.

If there was one thing Arthur King was known for, it was his group of friends and advisers. People even called it his Round Table, jokingly saying that in order to become a part of his group one had to bear the name of an Arthurian knight. Janet had broken through that superstition, since wile there could very well have been a knight named Isaac at the Round Table of legends, there had certainly never been a Janet.

Merlin followed Lance down the halls, his staff occasionally gently tapping the floor.

They walked out of the building and into the sun. He could see the media setting up to one side, getting shots of people as they arrived and speaking to some. The military patrolled the perimeters, watching for anything suspicious and still more soldiers hurried about taking care of last-mintue preparations.

Suddenly, Merlin heard a gasp and paused. He looked to the side and into the startled blue eyes of an American Air Force captain. She looked to be in her early thirties with short, cropped hair.

“Uh, captain?” the lieutenant next to her asked.

“That- that's Dragoon's staff,” she said. She walked towards Merlin in a daze, eyes fixed on the staff he was holding.

Merlin blinked at her. “Hmm, and who are you then?” he asked.

She stopped in front of him and shook herself out of her reverie. “Oh, sorry, sir, I'm Captain Tina Ramirez.”

“Tina...” Merlin whispered and then grinned. “I see. Well, then I'm assuming you've kept your promise.”

She frowned at him. “Yes, of course I did. Why do you have- did you know Dragoon the Great?”

“You could say that.”

Then she took a step closer and _really_ looked at him.

“You know, I found out later his real name was Merlin and that he worked at the mountain,” she said, carefully watching his reaction. “In fact, he actually worked on the Stargate Project. According to rumour, he's the reason for that sword that followed the stargate around.”

“Yes, I've heard those stories. Strange about the sword. Must be magic, I suppose.”

She snorted and then smiled. “The other kids at the hospital said he saved my life.”

“Really? Well that was certainly nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was.”

Merlin looked at her a moment and then leaned in to whisper into her ear. “So, am I cooler than Dumbledore now?” he said.

Tina gasped and stared at him with wide eyes. Merlin smiled slyly at her and then winked before turning back to continue on with Lance.

“What was that all about?” Lance asked with a frown.

“I'll tell you later,” Merlin answered.

Arthur was already there, greeting Daniel and Jack, Percival by his side as protection. Merlin had to school his features so as not to give away his shock at seeing the two men looking so much older than he remembered. He knew other people aged, yet it was still a shock whenever he found himself so suddenly confronted with the reality of it.

Arthur turned as they approached and smiled.

“Ah, Merlin, there you are,” he said, before gesturing to the two men beside him – two men, who were looking at Merlin with calculating eyes. “This is former Brigadier General Jack O'Neill and Doctor Daniel Jackson.”

“And I'm Vala Mal Doran,” a woman with long dark hair streaked with grey announced from beside Daniel. She strode up to Merlin and stuck her hand out. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Mal Doran,” said Merlin as he shook her hand. “I've read your autobiography; it's quite fascinating.”

“Please, call me Vala,” she said, looking rather pleased. “You've caused quite the stir yourself.”

“Have I?”

“You know full well that you have!” Jack growled and waved his walked stick before nearly toppling over. He leaning heavily on it and settled for glaring at him.

“It's good to see you again, Merlin,” said Daniel pointedly. “You're looking well.”

The corner of Merlin's mouth twitched.

“Again?” Arthur asked with a confused frown. “Merlin, when did you... you never said you'd met Doctor Jackson and Jack O'Neill before.”

Merlin shrugged.

“So it's really Merlin, is it?” Jack asked. “Not Percival?”

Merlin chuckled. “Nope, that's Percival,” he said, pointing to Arthur's bodyguard. “I'm Merlin.”

Then someone came to usher them to their places up by the podium in front of the stargate hanger. Merlin went to follow Arthur and then paused, before turning once more to Daniel and Jack.

“Incidentally, my mother's name was Hunith,” he said with a slight smile. “And Daniel, that seat beside you is reserved for a reason. Please make sure no one sits in it before the one it's intended for arrives.”

He then turned and followed Arthur.

Jack and Daniel stared after him, stunned.

“Hunithson, as in Hunith's son,” Daniel whispered.

“That was definitely his walking stick, staff, whatever,” said Jack. “The question is still 'how'? I mean, does he have, like, instant fountain of youth powder in his back pocket or something?”

“Oooh, the plot thickens,” said Vala delightedly.

Cameron arrived to greet them, followed by a steady stream of politicians and military leaders along with various reporters and their entourage.

The steel roof on the hanger was mechanically lowered, so that the stargate was bathed in sunlight and visible to the even the furthest spectators. Daniel and Jack, of course, had VIP seating and thus had a clear view of it and the sword that stood quietly to one side of the gate, still encased in what appeared to be the same concrete that had grown out of the floor of the old gateroom.

Daniel considered the sword. Even from half-way inside a concrete slab, it was obviously a well-crafted blade. They had once tried everything to move it and failed. It wasn't affected by either extreme heat or extreme cold and the concrete surrounding it was resistant to drills, lasers, minor explosives and staff blasts. And, of course, no one could pull it out either – even Jack had eventually grown tired of the 'nope, guess you're not the king of England either' jokes.

Oddly enough, although it should've been a horrible safety hazard, it wasn't . No one had ever gotten hurt because of its presence. Anyone, who came tumbling through the gate at full speed, always stopped tumbling just before reaching the sword and even when rushing around with armloads of equipment, people somehow avoided running into it without realizing they were.

Daniel then turned his gaze to Arthur King and Merlin Emrys.   “A leap of faith to believe the impossible, huh?” he said quietly.

“Say what?” Jack asked.

“Just before he left, Doctor Hunithson – _Merlin_ – told me that those people looking into his history would've never figured out the truth, because it required a leap of faith to believe the impossible.”

“But Daniel, we've been there, done that,” said Vala from Jack's other side. “We've met _the_ Merlin, he was an Ancient. You had him inside of you, remember?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, Vala, that was definitely an experience I would've forgotten about.”

“Daniel?” Jack asked, after Daniel had fallen silent for a few moments.

“What if...” Daniel began, his thoughts whirling inside his mind so fast, he could almost hear them buzzing in the forefront of his mind, drowning out everything else. A leap of faith. The truth took a leap of faith, but did he have the courage, after all these years, to make it? “The Goa'uld used pre-existing Earth legends and religions in order to establish themselves as gods of those religions. What if- what if the Alterans did something similar? What if Myrrdin the Ancient took an existing legend of the wizard Merlin and _used_ it as opposed to being the instigator of said legend?”

Jack and Vala stared at him. But neither one of them thought to deny the possibility that his words were true.

“You are as wise as I was led to believe, Doctor Jackson,” a soft, gravelly voice said from beside him.

Daniel started and then turned in time to watch a small, slender figure wearing a brown hooded cloak gingerly sit on the seat beside him. He stared at the figure, at first surprised that the individual knew who he was, until he remembered he was more or less a household name nowadays.

“I, uh, thank you?” he said.

Suddenly, a shadow blocked their light. Daniel looked up to see Merlin smiling happily down at the newcomer.

“Welcome, Diamaire, I'm glad you decided to come,” he said with a slight bow.

“Emrys. It seemed appropriate for me to be present for the dawn of the Fifth Race,” the figure said with an answering bow.

Merlin then turned to Daniel.

“Ah, I suppose I should make introductions. Diamaire, this is Doctor Daniel Jackson, the man who opened the Stargate. Daniel, this is the Diamaire-”

Daniel reached out a hand in greeting, his eyes widening as the person turned to him and placed a delicate, blue-skinned hand with long, almost iridescent fingers into his.

“-of the Furling.”

Daniel looked up and met the large eyes of the Diamaire. They looked old and were filled with warmth. Like her hand, her head was elongated and her skin an iridescent blue that appeared to glow underneath her cloak. She smiled at him.

“The Furling?” Daniel finally whispered.

“My people have been called many things but yes, we once called ourselves that,” she said. “Unfortunately, I am the last of my kind and I do not have much time left to me. Emrys has convinced me that, perhaps, it would be nice to leave behind the stories of my people before we are gone from the universe altogether.”

“And you want me to....?”

She nodded. “It seems fitting that you, who have met the other three races of the alliance were to hear and write down my words.”

Daniel's eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. “I'd be honoured and delighted to! I spent years trying to find even the smallest shred of your civilization! I-”

“Woah, hold your undomesticated equines there, Daniel!” Jack cut him off. He then turned to glare at Merlin, using his walking stick to poke in his direction. “You knew about the Furlings and never said anything?!”

Merlin grinned.

“Well, I've known the Diamaire for years, but I didn't realize she was from another planet until I started working at the SGC,” he said. “And even then, it wasn't my secret to share.”

“So, you're not denying you're the same Merlin that worked at the SGC as Doctor Hunithson?” said Vala.

“Of course not, there's no point in doing so.” He stopped smiling and suddenly it was as though they could see his age reflected in his eyes. “I've always hated lying, but it was always somehow necessary.”

“You could've just told us the truth,” said Jack quietly and Daniel was surprised to hear no actual anger in his friend's voice. “We dealt with weird on a daily basis.”

Merlin chuckled and shook his head.

“No, if I'd have told you the truth you would've asked me to prove it and it wasn't yet time. This way, you've drawn your own conclusions and I've merely confirmed them.”

“So what are you going to do for your next trick?” Jack asked. “Draw a dragon out of your hat?”

Merlin laughed.

“Definitely not!” He turned and waved an acknowledgement as Lance called his name, one hand on his earpiece. “I hate hats. Well, looks like I'm needed again. I'm sure I'll talk to you later.”

After a quick bow, Merlin followed Lance back to the front, to just behind the podium where Arthur was standing talking to General Mitchell and two other women. Daniel turned back to the Diamaire, excitement of the sorts he hadn't felt in years coursing through his veins.

“The Asgard said they didn't know what had become of the Furling: have you really been on Earth the entire time?” he asked.

The Diamaire nodded. “We did not want to be found, so the Asgard could not find us,” she said. “Neither they nor the Alterans ever truly grasped just how different we were.”

Daniel frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I believe a human once said that a high form of technology can appear to more primitive people to be as magic. The opposite can be said of magic.” She paused look out at the crowd and then at the Stargate. “The Fifth Race is an appropriate name for the Tau'ri. You possess elements of all of the Four Races.”

“Really? How so?”

“You have the thirst for knowledge of the Alterans, the desire to protect of the Asgard and a love of nature and desire for peace of the Nox.”

Daniel watched her. “And what of the Furling?”

“Of the Furling... you have our magic.”

Daniel's eyes widened. There it was: the big, pink elephant in the room that none of them had wanted to give name to and the Diamaire said it as though it were natural.

“I heard the Nox called you children,” she continued after a beat. “However, being a child is not always such a bad thing. Children are capable of believing in things their elders think impossible. Now watch, Daniel Jackson, for what is to happen next is Destiny.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin walked away from Daniel talking to the Diamaire with a sense of rightness. Things were finally slotting into place. There was only one, last thing to be done.

Gwen and Janet had apparently finished helping the media set up and were now talking with Arthur and General Mitchell about the protesters outside the gates. Gwen was trying to convince them to let a few in so they could watch the proceedings from up close. Mitchell thought that was a horrible idea.

Gwen latched onto Merlin as soon as he arrived. “Merlin, don't you agree? We should let a few of them in, maybe if they can see it up close they'll understand that the Stargate's not the monster they think it is.”

Merlin chuckled. “Sorry, Gwen, but I don't think it'll be quite that easy.” Then he pointed upwards at the giant screen hovering in mid-air above the audience, already projecting an image of everything happening around the stage and the Stargate. “Besides, they'll see everything well enough from where they are.”

Janet frowned. “Are they supposed to already be projecting the image?” she asked.

Merlin shrugged. “I told them they might as well turn it on early. Give people something a bit more interesting to look at than an empty stage from far away.”

“Putting Arthur on display again are you?” Janet asked with an impish grin.

Merlin grinned back. “Well, the prat does love showing off. Might as well take advantage of that.”

When the expected counter-jibe from Arthur didn't come, Merlin looked at his friend. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw Arthur staring at the sword sticking out of its cement encasement as though he'd never seen it before.

“This your first time seeing The Sword?” Mitchell asked with a knowing grin. “It's a mystery, all right. S'far as anyone's been able to figure out, it's just an ordinary sword, except of course that we can't budge the damn thing. Back when I was still on SG1, we used to joke that if the mountain was about to blow then the safest place would be next to that sword, 'cause it would probably manage to survive the blast. I rekon anyone who's ever worked at the SGC's tried to pull that thing out at one time or another.”

Arthur continued to stare at the sword. Merlin held his breath, reaching his magic into the ground beneath his feet in order to steady himself.

“Arthur?” Gwen asked gently.

That seemed to rouse him slightly.

“That sword...” he finally said. “I think... I think it's mine.”

Then he slowly walked over to it. At first he simply touched its hilt with a brush of fingers, as though trying to assure himself it was really there. Then he grasped it fully and pulled.

The sword gave no resistance as it slid out with a quiet, musical ping.

Several people gasped.

Arthur raised the sword up in front of him in awe. Just as it always had, sunlight found the blade instantly and reflected off it so brightly, the sword seemed to glow.

Its light managed to attract the attention of the remainder of the crowd who hadn't yet been watching the large screen. In the VIP seating, Jack and Daniel gaped along with everyone else.

“Well, I guess _he's_ the King of England,” Jack finally said and Daniel wasn't sure whether he wanted to hit him or laugh hysterically.

After a few moments, Arthur lowered Excalibur and blinked.

“Merlin,” he finally said, not taking his eyes off the sword in his hand. “When we get back from Dakara, I'm having a set of stocks built in my backyard just for you. I think the neighbourhood children will rather enjoy learning a new game.”

Merlin's face split into a radiant smile that made him nearly glow. “Of course, sire,” he said.

Then he looked out at the crowd which had now gone completely silent. The story about the sword that couldn't be moved was widely known. It was why Merlin had done it in the first place. However, it was going to take a bit more than that to make people believe. He took a deep breath and called up his magic to him, stretching himself past what he'd done in a very, very long time.

Then he pushed it gently into the land, coaxing it tenderly. The land eagerly answered his wishes and he smiled as he felt it yielding to his power. When people stopped staring at his glowing eyes and started looking behind him, to either side of the Stargate hanger, he knew it was working.

When it was done, Merlin turned to look at the two tall rowan trees now standing on either side of the hanger, several holly bushes surrounding them like an honour guard. He looked out again at the stunned faces and then stepped forward. His eyes flashed as he whispered a spell.

“I apologize for startling you,” he said, his voice projecting magically to everyone's ears. “My name is Merlin. To those of the Old Religion, I am Emrys. I have waited fifteen hundred years for this moment, when I could once again be known for who and what I am. I realize that after all this time, asking you to once again believe in magic is nearly asking the impossible, but it's necessary. Fear is what sent those of us with magic into hiding, into forgetting. I ask you now to set aside that fear.”

He paused to take a deep breath. He'd always hated making speeches, hated being in the spotlight, but this wasn't something Arthur could do. Well, he would later on, but not right now.

“We have learned from the Jaffa that the followers of the Ori are still a strong presence in the galaxy, that their influence is nearly that of what the Goau'ld once were. This is an enemy we will have to confront and that won't be an easy task. I'm neither a warrior nor a general, so I'll leave it to them to figure out how such a thing will be done. But to those of you who are wondering just how we are supposed to fight an enemy that uses technology that seems like magic, I have one simple answer: with real magic.”

Merlin grinned and turned to Arthur who was staring at him as though he was seeing him for the first time. Which, Merlin supposed, he sort of was. As much as that quip about the stocks meant he'd regained his memories, coming to terms with an entire lifetime's worth couldn't be easy.

“The light has shone out of the darkness and now, it's Kilgharrah's turn to fly.”

Merlin let go of the projection spell. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he reached for the part of him that was dragonlord. The ground beneath him shook as he roared the summoning into the sky.

“ _ **O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!”**_

At first there was silence then whispers started breaking out. Invariably, people scanned the skies, wondering what Merlin was looking for.

“So... was something supposed to happen?” General Mitchell finally asked.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Of course something's supposed to happen. Just make sure, General, that your people don't shoot him out of the sky when it does.”

It was a cameraman with a telescopic lens who saw him first. By the time Kilgharrah landed, the entire crowd had automatically pulled back several metres. Merlin walked out to greet him.

“Hello, old friend,” he said.

Kilgharrah turned ancient, amused eyes to look at him.

“Hello, young warlock,” the dragon said, prompting more surprised gasps. He turned towards the crowd and eyed them curiously for a few moments, before turning away. “Aah, so this is the Stargate... what a curious creation.”

Kilgharra ignored the small soldiers that had gathered around the the Stargate hanger, trotting up to the giant stone ring to take a closer look.

“Huh, a talking dragon,” Daniel heard Jack say. “Well, that's different. Definitely wouldn't have fit that into a hat.”

Eventually, the anniversary celebration began. There were speeches, which Arthur opened before handing the microphone over to Daniel.

When Daniel spoke, he felt a passion of a sort he hadn't in a very long time; he felt a desire to be heard, to make people understand. Partway through, he paused and looked to the VIP seating on his left and saw the Diamaire watching him intently. Then he looked to his right and met Kilgharra's interested gaze. He smiled at the dragon and turned back to the crowd.

And realized that what was happening out in field in front of him was just as important as what was about to happen with the gate behind him.

The protestors at the gate had become rather silent as they stared at the giant wolf that had somehow managed to get into the grounds. It was sitting atop a large commermorative stone, calmly staring in Daniel's direction. The historical tank behind it had a large eagle perched on the swell of its muzzle. There were a few children in the back gathered around something Daniel didn't even recognize. And was that old lady in the front row petting a red fox?

He continued his speech, telling the story of the Stargate, of Abydos to a brand new audience. When he finished, he left the podium, excited to tell Jack what he'd seen when someone grabbed his bicep. Surprised, he turned to see the culprit was a small young woman with short brown hair. She looked up at him in wonder.

“Daniel,” she said softly. Then she grinned and pulled him into a fierce hug. “I'm so glad you're doing well!” After a few breaths she let go and stepped back, levelling a heart-breakingly familiar narrowed look. “Now don't you be getting yourself back into the infirmary until I've managed to get my MD certification again.”

She smiled warmly then and stepped back to leave. “Well, I'm just going to go find my daughter. Wish me luck!”

Daniel watched her go feeling a little nostalgic, a lot amazed and mostly completely flabbergasted. He sat back down in his chair, unintentionally interrupting the staring match between Jack and the Diamaire.

“Hey!” Jack exclaimed. “Why'd you do that? I was winning!”

Daniel looked at him and rolled his eyes.

There were a few more, mercifully short, speeches before Arthur nodded to General Mitchell who ordered the dialing sequence. One by one, each chevron locked and the crowed cheered as the gate's backlash erupted outwards.

Arthur and Merlin then led the way to Dakara to meet the representatives of the Free Jaffa Nation as the first true representatives of the peoples of Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END.
> 
> Lol, Thank you so much to everyone who's left kudos and comments to this story! This little romp was fun to write and I definitely enjoyed it: even editing it for its second publication felt more like fun than actual work. And yes, there are hundreds of stories in this little world I've created that could be told, but I likely won't be returning to tell them. However, if anyone else wants to try, feel free! All I ask is that you reference the original story and drop me a line, because I'd love to read them. :)


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